


Raven Cycle Prompt Fill Collection

by Marmeladeskies



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Bluesey - Freeform, Dream Pack, F/M, Fluff, I will write polyship and threesome stuff if you request it, M/M, Multi, Prokopinsky, Prompt me, adam goes to college, adorable drunk adam, also, as will relationships and characters, chapters will be added, lots of opal, lots of pynch fluff, now with added smut, please enjoy the smut chapter responsibly, prompt collection, pynch - Freeform, ronan/gansey/adam threesome, smut chapters are marked nsfw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-27 17:00:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 25,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12085383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marmeladeskies/pseuds/Marmeladeskies
Summary: drabbles and one-shots from my tumblr prompts.come prompt me on tumblr! marmelade-sky.tumblr.com





	1. So Far Apart

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter of my new prompt fill collection! Check out my All For The Game one if you're in the fandom. And come prompt me on Tumblr: marmelade-sky.tumblr.com. I will write any ship and smut, too ;)
> 
> If you enjoy the content I create and want to support me, you can go to http://ko-fi.com/marmeladesky and buy me a coffee :) I would greatly appreciate it. ♥

It’s hard.

It shouldn’t be, after everything. But it is.

Adam is so far away, and Ronan misses him, and it sucks so badly, Ronan wants to punch something everytime he notices the gaping hole inside of him longing for Adam. He wants to punch many things.

He busies himself with farm things as farmers do, and with Orphan Girl. He teaches her proper English, and math, too. 

Adam and him skype, not as often as both of them wish they could. Adam has classes and social obligations, and a roommate who is, for some reason, opposed to skyping at 3 in the morning. 

They text a lot, now that Adam finally has a proper phone. They trade pictures. A selfie of Adam walking to class. One from Ronan with his headphones on, flashing his middle finger and grinning. Some of them are distinctly more naked. Others are distinctly more sweet. 

Ronan feels like he’s going to combust one of these days. All his feelings for Adam are burning, but it feel like they are burning and burning pointlessly, because there’s noone to warm themselves at the fire. 

His mind, the fucker, whispers to him, quietly, when he’s alone at night, a pillow next to him that has long since stopped smelling of Adam, or when Adam can’t text back for a whole day because exams are close and he has to study harder and pull all-nighters, and when Ronan sees other people in the pictures Adam sends him. Adam has other friends now, too. Ronan knows, objectively, that they will never be friends like they are, him and Gansey and Blue. How Noah had been. But subjectively, Ronan feels like acid whenever Adam sends pictures from study group or social events. 

The semester drags on. 

“Come visit me.”, Adam says on the phone late at night.

“What about Opal? And Chainsaw? And the animals?”, Ronan replies even though he means “YES!”. 

Adam is quiet for a moment. “...alright.”

It’s hard.

-

As it happens when feelings simmer for too long, they go bad, and that’s what happens. 

They fight, over the phone, and Ronan hates it so much, hates himself, hates Adam.

(no, he doesn’t.)

It’s stupid, so stupid, he should have kept his mouth shut, but the photo Adam sent him is making his blood boil and his brain fry through. 

“Go fuck her, then!”, he yells and wonders why he is like this. 

“Don’t yell at me, Ronan.” Adam’s voice is quiet. “This isn’t about that photo, we both know that. It’s about something else. Will you tell me?”

“The fuck will I tell you.” Jealousy is so ugly. It’s such an ugly monster, eating away at Ronan’s intestines. The photo isn’t even that bad. It’s one of Adam’s friends kissing his cheek while Adam grimaces. 

“Everyone of my friends here knows I have a boyfriend, Ronan.” How can Adam stay so calm? There had been a time when both of them would have been yelling by now. 

“Whatever. I’m hanging up.” Ronan snarls and presses the pad of his thumb between his eyebrows. Idiot. Fucking idiot. 

“Alright.”, Adam replies, “You can call me when you’re figured out what’s really wrong.” 

Ronan hangs up.

-

“Kerah?”

Opal stands in the doorway of Ronan’s room. She’s in her night shirt, and cradling a stuffed crow in her arms. 

“Blue is coming over to stay here with you, alright?”, he asks. “I have to go see Adam.” The guilt slams its fangs into his heart.

She cocks her head. Then nods. Then she comes closer and crawls into his bed, rolling into his covers, blinking up at him with her soft eyes. 

“I miss him.”, she says, matter-of-factly. “I wish he was here.” 

Ronan swallows hard. “Go back to sleep, bigears.” 

Blue arrives, and just flashes him a look that says it all. He doesn’t meet her eyes for once as he climbs into the BMW.

-

The drive is long, and Ronan listens to three playlists completely, and stops three times and drinks six cups of coffee. 

When he finally arrives, he doesn’t even know what he’s going to say. He would have had hours to think about it. But maybe it would be better to just... go with whatever his mind came up in the moment. 

He finds Adam’s dorm. It’s seven in the morning, and students are staring to crawl out of their dorms, hands wrapped around thermos mugs of coffee, enormous scarfs tied around their necks, backpacks slung over shoulders carelessly. Really, Ronan had thought there would be more pretentious people here. More people like Gansey. 

He knocks on the door of Adam’s room. He has the room number memorized.

The door opens. A scrawny guy stands before him, half a head smaller than Ronan, looking like he surely majors in physics or some nerd-shit. 

“Yes...?” He looks up at Ronan a bit intimidated. Ronan looks down at him a bit annoyed.

“Adam. Where is he.”

The scrawny one blinks, then half-turns, and says, “Uh...Adam? Some guy is looking for you...”

There’s shuffling of feet and the rustling of a bedcover and the slamming shut of a textbook and then there’s Adam.

Ronan feels like all the air has been knocked out of his lungs. Adam stands there, behind his roommate (who carefully retreats now) in pyjama pants, fuzzy socks and one of Ronan’s shirts. 

Ronan wants to say that he’s sorry, that he’s an idiot and that he misses Adam. What comes out of his mouth is “That’s my shirt.”

Adam looks down on himself. His expression is somewhere between blank and surprised.

“Yes.”, he just says, and then looks back up. “Did you drive all the way to tell me that?”

Ronan cocks his head. He wants to say “No, I’m sorry I was an asshole.” but what comes out is “Maybe.” 

Adam smiles anyway and it makes Ronan a little more whole than he’s been before. 

“Wanna come in?” 

Ronan nods.

“Take your dirty boots off, though.” 

Ronan does. 

-

They never go this long without visiting each other again.


	2. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy! and come prompt me :)

It’s under his skin. It crawls and makes him bleed inside, rips apart his intestines, stuffs his throat, pops out his eyeballs. 

It’s not a Cabeswater kind of dream, not a dream to be taken with him, but a nightmare nevertheless, and Ronan grapples for the beat coming out of his headphones, trying to pull himself out, but his hands can’t hold on.

Then the dream shifts and it’s a relief, not him anymore, it’s gone, he’s alright, he’s not dying, it’s not inside of him anymore. But then it shifts again and suddenly, there’s Adam, and Ronan is somehow inside of him (and not in the good way) but also watches him from the outside, as he writhes on the floor, bloody all over, his skin moving unnaturally, his eyes bulging, his spine popping and cracking as he moves on the floor of Ronan’s dream.

Ronan wants to scream, but nothing comes out of his mouth. And then Adam’s skin explodes. It’s absurd, and disgusting, and Ronan can feel blood and gore on his face, and then he jerks awake as the song in his headphone changes and a loud kind of base thumps into his mind. 

Cold sweat, clammy hands, his breath is going quick and hard and he moves his hands to wipe over his face, expecting his palm to come away crimson.

It doesn’t.

Chainsaw croaks at him.

Ronan grapples for his phone on the nightstand. He hates it, Ronan Lynch never uses his phone. Ronan Lynch uses his phone to call Adam Parrish at college.

Adam answers after four rings, quiet, voice sleepy. 

Ronan lets out a breath. “…you didn’t explode.”

Adam hums. “Not that I know of.”

Ronan’s heart beats heavily, still. “Good.”

“Okay.”, Adam groans, and Ronan imagines him, in his dorm bed, rubbing his eyes, illuminated by the phone screen. 

There’s a silence. 

“I’m glad you didn’t explode.”, Ronan says. Chainsaw croaks, and she sounds oddly pleased with her master.

Adam chuckles softly, sleepily. “I’m glad, too.”

Another silence.

“…I have class tomorrow at 8.”

“Hmm.”

Ronan picks at a lose string in his pyjama bottoms.

“…do you want to hear about my classes?”, Adam asks, and something in Ronan sinks. Adam, who has to get up at 6, and has classes tomorrow at 8, is willing to stay awake for him, talk to him, and make the uneasy feeling go away. They don’t have to say it out loud to know it’s true.

“Yeah.”


	3. A Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yayy :) this was fun

“Someone should tell a story!” Blue licks chocolate and marshmellow off her fingers, and both Gansey and Henry watch her do it, Henry with a faint smirk, Gansey with, what Ronan calls “fucking heart-eyes”. 

“Go ahead, then.”, Ronan snarls. He’s leaning into Adam’s side casually, with Adam’s arm slung around him. 

“Nuh-uh.” Blue wiped her hand on her distaster of a skirt. It looks like it has been sewed together from two differen skirts, one side green suede, the other black denim, now smeared with chocolate and spit. “I’m a bad story-teller.”

“Ronan knows some stories.” Adam’s voice fits the soft, gently wind caressing their naked arms. 

Ronan sits up and glares at his boyfriend. “Fucking traitor, Parrish!”

Adam just smirks. “It’s true, though.”

Gansey holds up his hands. “Okay, come on, leave him alone if he doesn’t want to.” 

Ronan doesn’t want to, but Gansey defending him like this is worse. 

“Yeah, I bet the stories aren’t even that great.” Henry grins and quickly tucks his legs back before Ronan can kick him. Blue snorts, and immediately joins in this childish and effective taunting. “Yeah, he’s probably not even that good of a storyteller!”

“Yeah, right, you want a story?” Ronan squares his shoulders, “...I’ll give you a story.”

Henry and Blue immediately start hollering and whooping, Gansey smiles mildly and Adam laughs softly, reaching out and running the palm of his head over the shaved back of Ronan’s head.

Ronan sits up straight, leaning forward slightly. He tries to channel his inner Niall Lynch, the entertainer, the storyteller. 

“Alright, so our story begins with... a prince who lives in a castle on a hill.” Blue immediately starts clapping her tiny hands, probably excited that it’s a princess and not a prince. Ronan gives her a toothy grin before he goes on. 

“The prince-”

“You need to start with ‘once upon a time’.”, Henry interrupts him. “These are the rules, Lynch.”, he adds when Ronan glares at him. Blue and Gansey nod. 

Ronan huffs. “Alright, shitsticks, once upon a time, a prince lived in a castle on a hill. The prince’s name was...” He pauses for dramatic effect, then, with a very serious expression, goes on. “...Ansey.” 

Everyone snorts at once, Blue patting Gansey’s thigh while Gansey good-naturedly rolls his eyes at Ronan. “Ha-ha.” 

“Hush, children.”, Henry urges the others and leans back against a tree trunk behind him. 

Ronan, with all the grace he can muster, waits until they’re quiet again, and then goes on. “Prince Ansey lived in his castle, with his parents, the king and the queen, and his sister, Elen. When the time came that Elen was supposed to be wed, she told her parents to suck it, because, alas, she was a huge lesbian.” 

He pauses again to give them a moment for their laughter. A grin tugs on his own lips. 

“So, the king and the queen had to find another solution to ensure their bloodline would go on.” 

Ronan can see how Gansey is almost popping a vein in his forehead to stop himself from correcting Ronan about the historical accuracy. It was a fun sight. 

“So the king and the queen decided that prince Ansey would have to be the one to marry someone of status and give them beautiful, snobby grandbabies with a pretentious vocabulary.” 

“Aw...”, Blue cooes and pats Gansey’s cheek. He rolls his eyes again. 

“...and so, the king and queen started picking out potential brides for the prince, all of them blonde and beautiful with huge boobs.” Ronan cups his own chest with both his hands. Adam slaps him. “They were all over the prince, throwing themselves at the prince willingly.”

“I’m starting to like this story.”, Henry smirks and reaches behind Blue to ruffle Gansey’s hair. Gansey has blushed just slightly. 

“It was mayhem.”, Ronan goes on dramatically, “So many females, with so many breasts and...-” He looks backwards at Adam for more suggestions.

“Butts? Legs?”, Adam supplies helpfully. Ronan points at him. “...exactly. The prince was thoroughly overwhelmed because he was a bit bad with girls.” 

Everyone snorts again. 

“But...”, Ronan sighs deeply, as if he is about to tell the saddest story ever known to man, “none of them managed to charm the prince’s heart.”

Now it’s Henry who “aw”-es. 

“That’s so sad!” Blue’s grin doen’t fit her words at all. It was smug, probably because she could predict what Ronan would come up with next. 

“While the royals were busy throwing parties and arranging marriages, someone else saw their chance. This story isn’t only about our prince, it’s also about a thief, a master-thief, so to speak. Her name was... Lue.” 

Blue yelps in delight and sits up straighter. Gansey is heart-eyeing her again. 

“Lue had been looking for a chance to steal the crown jewels for quite some time.”, Ronan goes on. Behind him, Adam and moves his hand so he’s gently gripping Ronan’s thigh.

“Lue had stolen many things in her life, using the profits she made to feed the poor and organically grow buckwheat or some shit people ate in the middle ages.” 

“Barley.”, whispers Gansey. 

“Go on!”, Blue urges with an excited smile. 

“So, Lue saw her chance, and decided she would take the opportunity. The next night, she dressed up as a servant, and made her way up to the castle on the hill. She managed to get in with her impeccable thief-skills, and posed as a servant, waiting for the right moment to steal away, and look for the crown jewels. When the king and the queen were appropriately drunk, Lue seized the moment and sneaked out of the kitchen and into the vast hallways of the castle. She knew the jewels were well-hidden, but she also knew she was the best thief in all of the country. She looked in the crown room, in the king’s and queen’s quarters, in the guest room and every other fucking room those castles had back then.” 

Ronan, with pleasure, watches Gansey bite his lip. 

“She was getting agitated, because she could not find them, and so she decided to look in the broom closets, too. She opened the first she could find, and was met with a peculiar sight: the prince, hiding in the closet.” 

Adam chuckles slowly behind Ronan. Henry dons a mock-shocked expression and a fake gasp.

“ ‘what are you doing in there?!’ “, Ronan does the best bad impression of Blue’s voice, then switches in a fake bass voice and a bad, posh accent, “...’Hiding from all these female women who want to marry me!’“ 

Everyone laughs and Ronan’s heart swells. But just a little. Just a tiny little bit. 

“And as Lue and the prince looked at each other there, they both realized: holy shit.” 

Gansey cheesily wraps his arm around Blue, and she leans into him with an equally as cheesy smile. Her other hand reaches out for Henry. 

“’What are you doing here?’, the prince asked, and stepped out of the closet.” Henry snorts. 

“‘I’m trying to steal your crown jewels.’, Lue replied, ‘but maybe I could steal you instead.’ Lue had realized that this prince would be much more precious to her than any jewels, and Ansey realized that this thief lady would be his chance to get away. So he let her whisk him away. They sneaked out of the castle on the hill, dodging blondes, and then lived happily ever after on Lue’s organic buckwheat farm.”

They were quiet for a moment. 

Adam said: “That was kind of anti-climatic.” 

Ronan said: “Shut your mouth, Parrish.”

Blue said: “It was sweet.” 

Gansey just smiled and pressed a kiss to Blue’s hair. 

Henry said: “Next time, you need to tell us a story about how Ansey and Blue meet the local beekeeper.”

“Fuck, no.” Ronan leans back in Adam’s arms, and then looks up into the sky. “...I need a drink.” 

Later, when they’re in bed, Adam curls into his side, his fingertips tracing patterns over Ronan’s skin. 

“...you told the story badly on purpose.” 

Ronan grunts. “...fuck, yeah. I don’t want them to get used to that, me telling them stories. It’s bad enough when I have to do it for Opal every night.” 

Adam just smiles because he knows Ronan secretly enjoys it.


	4. Hugs

Gansey’s hugs are genuine and generous. 

Gansey’s hugs, true hugs from him, are just as much for the other person as they are for himself. He asks for consent most of the time. Gansey’s hugs are warm summer breezes, unobstrusive cologne, warmth after a long day, comfort after a long year, reassurance when it’s needed and unconditional affection.

 

Blue’s hugs are pure joy. 

They are running and jumping into open arms, they are her own arms wrapped around her boys’ necks, they are her face buried in hard, warm chests which she’s eye-level with. They are soft and cute, like her, smelling like bubble gum and herbal tea, and at the same time fierce, also like her. 

Ronan’s hugs seem impossible until they are not. 

Ronan’s hugs are more frequent than one would think. They’re heavy and firm and full of strength, a bit defiant. And at the same time, they’re tender. Long fingers tangling in hair, nose pushed into the crook of a shoulder, stubbles rubbing over skin. They are needy, so needy, asking for affection.

Adam’s hugs are tentative. 

Adam’s hugs mean giving something away at first. Then, gradually, they become taking something for himself, allowing himself to take what he needs from others. They’re feeling his friends’ heartbeats against his chest and against his neck, inhaling deeply and memorizing everyone’s scent. They’re breaking away after a while because it gets too much, but then going back in. 

Noah’s hugs are memories. 

They’re cold like fall nights, but they’re sweet. They are wrapping himself around his friends, jumping on their back. They are meaningful, because they mean he can feel their hearts light up and make him remeber how his own heart used to do that. 

Henry’s hugs are encompassing. 

They’re pulling someone close by their shirt and holding them until they can’t stop laughing. They’re a bit too much cologne and hair product. They happen from all angles, and at every possible opportunity. They’re hair-ruffling and playful butt-slapping and back rubs and shoulder patting. They’re looking for reassurance and trying to make everyone happy. 

 

Group hugs are a thing.

These are special, and reserved for certain times. They’re accompanied by messages, by silent declaration of friendship and love, by emotional support and warmth.

They’re fixing each on and holding on to each other. They’re proof that their constellation still exist in the night sky. They’re roots of trees tangling together and growing a whole new forest, branches reaching for the stars.


	5. The mystery of Ronan Lynch: Farmer, Father, driver of fast cars?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this wasn't prompted, it was my own idea haha. Enjoy! :)

It takes Adam a while to become friends with people at college, but it doesn’t take people very long to become friends with Adam Parrish, because Adam is the kind of person people are drawn to: polite and nice, calm and intelligent, with just the right bit of mystery to him. 

Of course none of his friends can compare to his friends back home. Noone ever could. But they’re alright. 

So, after the first semester is over, Adam has several friends. For one, his roommate Dave, who’s a bit of a nerd, a bit awkward, but genuinly nice, too. Also, Ava, who sits next to him in three of his classes and who would probably get along perfectly with Blue (she’s a vegan and only wears second hand clothes). Then, there’s Other Adam from weight class who Adam is friends with because, after realizing they share the same name, it had been inevitable to become friends.   
All of Adam’s friends have more friends, and so Adam ends up going to parties and meeting so many people. He even talks to them, too. Blue tells him how proud she is on the phone. “Look at you! Going out, meeting normal people! Good going!”. Adam tells her how they’re still his best friends and will always be, and he knows she’s just a little relieved to hear that.

The subject of Ronan Lynch comes up with Adam’s college friends, too, of course. 

“Who’s that?”, Dave asks when Adam puts up pictures of his friends next to his plants. 

“My friends.” 

“That one looks like he’s in a punk band.”, Dave replies with a grin, coming over to Adam’s side of the room to get a closer look. He points to a picture of Ronan. 

Adam smiles. “You think so?” He casually puts up another picture. It’s of him and Ronan and Opal and Chainsaw, and it’s what Blue refers to as their “happy family picture. It’s been taken in front of the Barns, with cows grazing in the background. In it, Ronan hugs Adam from behind while Chainsaw perches on Ronan’s shoulder and Opal, wearing a huge jumper and neon green rain boots, holds both of their hands. They all smile for the camera. It’s a nice picture. 

Adam thinks it’s funny to wait until Dave manages to piece all the clues together. “Wait a minute-!” He looks at Adam with big eyes, “...is that your boyfriend?”

“Yeah.” Adam notices that he’s never had a real coming-out moment before this. With Ronan back home, there had been no coming-out, just facts. 

“Oh!”, Dave replies, surprised, but obviously trying to keep his voice light, “that’s cool! Cool! He looks... nice! What’s with the kid...and the bird?” 

“That’s his pet raven. Chainsaw. And his kid.” 

It’s very amusing to watch Dave squirm. 

“That’s cool, really cool.”

“Dave, can you stop saying cool, please?”

-

“I’m gonna drop out and become a famer.” Ava puts her head on her desk next to Adam. It’s cold in the class room and the lecture is equally as boring as it is hard.

“My boyfriend’s a farmer.”, Adam replies casually, and then wonders when he has started mentioning Ronan so off-handedly in conversations.

“Oh, really?” Ava lifts her head again, interest perked now. “Is he really buff? What kind of farm does he have?” 

Adam cocks his head slightly, considering. “...he’s a little buff, I guess.” He thinks of Ronan’s arms and the room doesn’t feel so cold anymore. “...cattle, mostly.” And dream things. 

“Alright, awesome. Organic, I hope.” Ava narrows her eyes playfully. 

Adam chuckles. “As organic as it can be.” 

“Nice. Maybe he needs an assistent, then please tell him to consider me.” Ava drops her head again with a dramatic sigh. 

-

He’s on the treadmill, Other Adam next to him, working out together. Adam usually listens while Other Adam talks and provides the occasional smart comment. Sometimes they don’t talk at all. It’s a really manly friendship. 

“...I swear, she’s the most amazing person ever. Really. You should meet her. You could bring your girl, too!” Other Adam grins over at Adam, but then he furrows his eyebrows, grin dropping slightly. “...do-.. do you have a girl?”

Adam looks over to him and wipes sweat out of his eye. “...I have a boy.” 

Other Adam’s grin makes a reappearance. “Well, bring your boy, then.”

“He’s not good with people, but I’ll ask him.” Adam tried imagining Ronan meeting Other Adam. Nah. Maybe he wouldn’t ask him. 

“Really? What’s he good with?” 

It’s quite clear that Other Adam is aiming for an innuendo here. 

Adam shrugs. “Animals, I guess, and cars. He used to street race when we were younger.” It feels weird and nice to be able to share such information openly, to have friends to share it with, and who to brag about his boyfriend to. 

“Nice.”, Other Adam just replies, and then they go on about their workout in manly, comfortable silence.

-

It’s Adam’s birthday, and Ava and Dave manage to surprise him with a picnic. It’s nice and sweet, they brought a blanket, some wine and snacks and even a birthday cake that spells “Hapy Birtday, Adam” since Dave had been tasked with the writing. “You could have told us you’re dyslexic!”, Ava laughs when they reveal the cake. 

They’ve invited some more people from their classes and their circle of friends, their dorm neighbours, and Other Adam’s girlfriend, too. It’s nice, and Adam has a bit of a hard time believing that all those people are there to celebrate with him. They even give him gifts, and it’s really sweet. 

Adam is busy unpacking Ava’s gift, a marroon sweater she made herself, when someone casts a shadow over him from behind. 

“Hey, Nerdboy.” 

Adam startles at the familiar voice, and turns around, squinting upwards. Ronan Lynch stands behind him, hands in his pockets, smirk on his face. 

“Um, excuse-”, Ava starts, obviously ready to defend her friend, but before she can go on, Adam is on his feet and throws his arms around Ronan. He doesn’t care that everyone’s watching them now. Ronan wraps his arms around Adam, too, and holds him so tightly, so perfectly, wonderfully tightly. Adam inhales his familiar scent, motor oil and hay and Ronan. 

“Happy birthday. I wanted to see you.”, Ronan mumbles into his ear, and Adam thinks he can’t ever let go of him now. 

“Ronan...”, he says, and notices that his voice is rough around the edges. 

They finally break apart, and Adam, cheeks heated up, turns around to face his friends. “So... guys, this is Ronan.”

They all stare. Ronan’s hand tightens possessively on the back of Adam’s belt. 

“That’s Ronan?!”, Ava’s mouth hangs open. “I thought he was a farmer!”

Dave blinks rapidly behind his glasses. “I... I thought you were older.” He addresses Ronan directly, at least, “-I mean, no offence, dude, but Adam told me you had a kid.” He shrugs.

Ronan starts grinning beside Adam. Adam starts grinning, too. 

“A kid?!”, Other Adam asks from behind Ava, “I thought he was a race car driver!”

Now Ronan turns to Adam, smirk on his face self-assured and what other people might think of as arrogant. “I see you’ve been talking about me and my many talents.” 

“Well.” Adam shrugs and pats Ronan’s chest, “How could I not?”

Ronan laughs. It’s so good to hear him laugh, especially with strangers around. It’s so good to see him at ease like this now, this new Ronan, who doesn’t hate as much as he used to. 

They sit back down, and Ronan gets some of the birthday cake. 

“Before I forget, the brat wants me to give you this.” Ronan reaches into his leather jacket and produces a framed crayon drawing. It’s a replica of their ‘family photo’ that Adam has in his room. 

“Wow, it’s a masterpiece.”, Adam jokes, but his heart warms up as he looks at the framed drawing. A little heart hovers over their heads, and next to them, Opal’s kid-scribbles read “Kerah + Adam + Opal + Chainsa W”. The W is written in Ronan’s handwriting and black marker, obviously added as a correction later. 

“Tell her thank you.”, Adam says, and his voice is soft and it’s cheesy. 

“Will do.”, Ronan replies and then stuffs his face with cake. 

Adam looks at the drawing once more, then at his new friends, who all smile at him broadly. 

His new friends, and his old family. He thinks he can get used to that.


	6. I'm proof my Daddy doesn't farm all the time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It had to happen :D

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping.”

Blue snorts. “Nice reference.” She walks around the BMW and flops into the passenger seat. Ronan grins behind his dark sunglasses. 

“Isn’t Opal coming?” Blue twists in her seat to look back.

“Hell no. I don’t want to drag her to a mall. Besides, she’d start eating the displays.” 

“Oh, so we’re her personal shoppers? You’re spoiling your child, Ronan. Soon, she’ll be asking for a playstation and one of those little electric jeeps.” 

“Nah, she’s very frugal. Adam sent her a stuffed deer some weeks ago. She didn’t even try to eat it, and now she carries it everywhere.” Ronan looks ahead, eyes trained on the street. A small smile tugs on his lips. 

“Wow, that’s the most adorable thing ever!” Blue clutches her hands over her heart. “Ronan Lynch, are you becoming a softie? A soft dad for your tiny dram daughter?”

“Shut up, maggot. I’m still tough as fuck.” Ronan reaches out and pinches Blue’s arm, but he doesn’t do it hard. Blue bites his hand, but she doesn’t do it hard, either.

-

They arrive at the mall and Ronan steals someone’s parking spot, then ignores the angry honking as him and Blue walk to the mall. 

Blue feels a little badass next to Ronan. He’s radiating badass-ness. 

They find the kids’ section. 

“Ugh.”, Blue says, looking from the boy’s section to the girl’s section. “Why does it have to be so gendered? That’s stupid. As if little boys don’t like glitter.” Noah would approve. 

Ronan gives her a look, and then heads for the boy’s section. Blue follows him with a smirk. 

“Alright, maggot, I’m not about to spend two hours in here, so we’ll both look for fifteen minutes and then I’ll just boy everything we picked out.” Ronan, a frown between his eyebrows, reaches for the first rack that’s in front of him and pulls out a random shirt. 

Blue claps her hands. “Perfect!”, then she dashes off. 

Fifteen minutes later, Ronan is still in the same section Blue left him, and Blue returns with her arms full of clothes and a huge grin on her face.

“Done?”, Ronan asks without looking at the clothes. 

“Yes, Ronan, look! Look at this!” Blue dumps the whole pile on a nearby table, and pulls out one of the shirts. “Look! Bless this redneck town.” 

The shirt is black, and has white font on it which reads “I’m proof my daddy doesn’t farm all the time!” and a cheery little cow under it. 

Ronan considers it for a moment, and then laughs, hard, throwing his head back and bellowing his laughter out freely. Blue can’t resist but laughing, too, and she feels pride swell in her chest. Making Ronan Lynch laugh like this is something else, and something special. 

“Awesome, maggot.” He reaches out and claps her back. Blue feels very accepted and manly. 

They pay (Ronan pays) and then drive to the Barns. Opal almost falls over herself to greet Blue, jumping into her arms which almost makes Blue topple over because the little dream girl is almost as tall as her. Then she jumps around Ronan until he catches her and coaxes her into trying on the clothes. 

Ronan fistbumps Blue when Opal comes out looking utterly adorable in the stupid shirt, and Blue realizes she finally managed to impress the unimpressable Ronan Lynch.


	7. Late night videos (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was: Pynch - While at college Adam makes Ronan a dirty video, using those fingers Ronan loves so much to work himself open in full view. It's half to tide Ronan over till he's able to come home for a weekend and half to train Ronan that his phone is really not so bad

It a bit after midnight when Ronan’s phone vibrates and lights up next to him. He huffs and looks at the screen, but when he sees it’s a text from Adam, he defiantly takes it, but not without waiting five minutes first. There’s also three missed calls from Adam.

The text is a video. 

Ronan furrows his eyebrows. He’s used to Adam sending him photos and voice messages sometimes, but videos? That’s new. 

He clicks it. 

The first shot is just Adam, on his belly in his bed, shirtless, grinning at the camera. “My roommate is away over the weekend, so I’m all alone...” 

Ronan’s scalp starts to tingle. He quickly reaches for his headphones.

“I miss you, Lynch. And you’re not answering your phone.”

“Oops.”, Ronan whispers to himself.

On screen, Adam squirms in his bed, and Ronan can see that he’s not wearing pants, either. Ronan shifts in his bed, spreading his legs just a little, getting comfortable in his sheets. 

“I fucking miss you, Ronan Lynch, and you’re not answering your fucking phone...” There’s a needy edge to Adam’s voice that makes heat shoot down Ronan’s spine.

It get worse when Adam put his fingers into his mouth, his index finger, middle finger and ring finger, slender and perfect, and Ronan barely notices the groan that escapes him. Adam’s blue eyes burn into Ronan’s soul before he lets them flutter shut with a sound of pleasure as he sucks on his fingers, coating them in spit. It’s vulgar and beautiful and Ronan is rock hard all of a sudden. 

The noise Adam’s fingers make when he pulls them out from between his glistening, reddened lips is so indecent and perfect. His fingers are thoroughly coated, and when Ronan realizes he’s reaching behind himself, and when he shifts, and Ronan’s breath hitches when Adam moans and his jaw goes slack. 

“Fuck, Ronan... wish you were here...”, he moans and Ronan agreed wholeheartedly. 

The picture blurrs for a moment as Adam shifts on the bed, presumably propping the phone up on his headboard as he sits up on the bed, back turned to the camera. 

Ronan thinks he might have a stroke. Or a heart attack. Or just cream his pants.

Adam spreads his buttocks, and then uses those smart fingers to work himself open. He starts with his middle finger, which slides in easily. Ronan reaches into his pyjama pants, wrapping his hand around his cock which strains against the fabric hard and heavily. 

Adam’s soft pants are barely audible as he rocks back slightly. Ronan can see him relax and open up, and he wishes he could be there to replace Adam’s fingers with his own. Or his mouth. Or his cock. 

Adam adds another finger and accompanies it with a high-pitched moan that makes Ronan’s toes curl. He has to still his hand for a moment to avoid coming already. 

“Fuck, Ronan, fuck...”, Adam whispers and scissors his fingers which makes black dots dance over Ronan’s vision. 

Adam shifts again on the bed, so Ronan get to see him in profile, his perfect round ass and his untouched cock, hard and flushed between Adam’s thighs. 

Adam grips it not, hand closing over the head as his fingers move in and out. Adam’s voice is more audible now, ragged, breathy. 

“Ronan, fuck, want you here with me, need you...” 

Ronan’s own hand speeds up as Adam’s does. Adam adds a third finger, and Ronan can see pre-cum drip from the tip of his cock. 

“I’m gonna come... Ronan...”

Ronan’s toes curl so hard that’s his calves are close to cramping. Adam comes with a muffled moan, shooting over his bedcover, rocking into his hands, forward, backward, forward, backward.

Ronan comes, too, eyes trained on the screen, lips parted, shooting over his belly. 

Adam slumps, wipes his hands on a tissue he mysteriously produces from his bedside, and then appears in the frame again, a blissfull expression on his face, eyelids drooping.

“Next time, answer your fucking phone, Lynch.”


	8. Pynch- "You're so warm"

“Fuuuck, it’s cold as balls out there!”

Adam watches as Ronan enters through the back door, his cheeks and the tip of his nose flushed pink, coat bundled tightly around himself and boots dripping with greyish slush. It’s been snowing for the past few days, and Adam has done his best to stay warm inside with tea and his laptop, writing his paper for school that’s due after christmas break. 

Ronan kicks off his boots, sending them flying and leaving a trail of melted snow and dirt behind them, then shrugs off his coat. He’s wearing nothing but his usual muscle tee under it. Adam, too late, realizes Ronan Lynch, the abominable snowman of Henrietta, is coming for him. 

“Don’t-”, he yelps, jumping out of his seat, accidentally kicking over his chair. But there is no escape. With a rough, throaty laugh, Ronan has gripped him, pressing his cold, damp skin against Adam’s, burying his freezing nose in the crook of Adam’s neck, grunting happily. 

“Ronan!”, Adam complains, trying to push his popsicle of a boyfriend away, “Ronan Lynch I swear- aaaahhh- Ronan!” Adam hisses when Ronan tugs up the back of his hoodie and plants his cold hands on the small of Adam’s back. Adam kicks at his shins in return (not hard, but definitely not softly, either). 

They end up on the floor, brawling, a mess of tangled, long limbs, grunts and laughter. 

“Hmm, you’re so warm…”, Ronan hums obnoxiously, weighing Adam down with his whole body. Adam grunts in response, Ronan’s weight on top of him preventing him from speaking. Eventually, he gives up and let himself go limp. Ronan hums again. “That’s a good boy.” He grins and pats Adam’s cheek which earns him a glare. Ronan leans down and kisses him.

“Even your lips are cold.”, Adam wheezes. 

“Warm them up with yours, then.”, Ronan retorts smoothly. 

“Stop being sappy and let me go. I’ll run you a bath. You’ll catch a cold if you don’t warm up for real.” Adam uses his heel to kick at Ronan’s ass to get him going. 

“Aw, what a caring wifey you are.”, Ronan teases, but rolls off Adam, letting him get up. Adam offers him a hand. 

“Who’s the one staying home with the kid?”, Adam teases back lightly, speaking over his shoulder on the way to the bathroom. 

“Watch your tone or I’ll not be ironing your shirts for you later.” Ronan trails after Adam, following him into the master bathroom. 

Adam just snorts and glances at Ronan with a grin, shaking his head slightly. Ronan’s grin is rather smug as he discards his shirt. 

-

Adam, of course, ends up joining Ronan in the tub. 

Ronan, of course, ends up with a cold anyways.


	9. Cuddles for Noah

Monmouth Manifacturing has a couch now. Not just any couch, a glorious, enormous thing which Blue calls “beautiful” while Gansey optimistically calls it “charming”. No matter how aesthetically pleasing it is (or not), one thing is for sure: it’s damn comfortable.

It’s wide, wit fluffy pillows, and allows all of them to curl up on it at once. They watch movies like this, on sundays.

Gansey sprawls out on one end, and Adam on the other; Ronan usually drapes himself over whoever is already sitting down just to be a nuisance, and Blue loves to sit where she doesn’t belong: perched on the backrest, for example, until Gansey pulls at her leg or Ronan pushes her over.

Sometimes, Noah will join.

Noah loves the couch, probably more than any of them, because couch time means cuddles for Noah, and Noah loves cuddles.

“You’re all too far apart.”, he says, materializing in front of them suddenly, hands on his hips. “Noah!”, Blue yelp, partly startled, but mostly excited. Then, the next moment, the ghost boy materializes from in front of them to the middle of the couch.   
“Jesus fucking Christ, Noah.” Ronan, whose nose is buried in Adam’s shoulder, looks up. Noah gives him a cheery smile and stretches his hands out on either side of himself. “Come here, please…” 

They exchange quick glances. Noone can say no to Noah, and so they end up shuffling around, rearranging their limbs, until Ronan and Blue are left and right of Noah, with Gansey and Adam respectively behind them. Gansey buries his face in Blue’s shoulder (and maybe a little bit in her boobs. Just a little. He can’t help it; they’re so soft.) and Blue stretches out her arms, one curled around Gansey, the other one around Noah, one side warm, the other cold. 

Noah gives a happy noise. “You’re soft.”, he cooes in delight. Blue snorts. “Thanks, I guess.” 

“Ronan’s not soft.”, Noah continues, his voice, as always, slightly aloof. 

Ronan snorts on his other side. “Well, sorry I don’t have boobs.” 

“It’s fine.”, Noah replies and rolls to his other side, pressing his face into Ronan’s neck for a moment, “…you smell nice, though.” 

That shuts Ronan up. Blue and Gansey watch with smiles as Adam, behind Ronan, grins and leans in to sniff at Ronan’s neck as well. “Noah’s right.” 

“Oh my god, is Ronan blushing?”, Blue teases with a giggle. Gansey grins. “I think he is.”, he replies, and then ducks his head so Ronan’s hand misses him. 

“No!”, Noah whines and his presence flickers, “No, be nice!” The temperature between them drops, and immediately, Ronan pulls his hand back. 

Noah gives a little whine and flickers again. Blue tentatively reaches out for him. “Noah…?”

He closes his eyes for a moment, and when Blue’s hand settles on his shoulder, he steadies again. 

“Noah…”, Gansey props himself up on one elbow behind Blue, and this is Dad Gansey, the caring friend who wants the best for his friends, and only the best, who cares so much. Noah’s eyes open. 

“Come here.”, Gansey quietly urges. 

“Between us.”, Blue adds, and pulls at Noah’s shoulders. 

Ronan and Adam watch from the sidelines, Adam’s hand gently trailing over Ronan’s stomach, up and down, a soft, affectionate touch which Ronan lets happen. 

With a flicker, Noah materializes between Gansey and Blue. Blue turns, wrapping herself around Noah from behind while Noah presses his face into Gansey’s chest. Gansey stretches his arm to wrap it around both Noah and Blue. 

Gansey curls his fingers in Ronan’s and Adam’s direction, almost making grabby hands as Blue and Noah snuggle together in his arms. “Come here?”, he asks. Ronan turns to look at Adam. Adam nudges him and they come to some sort of silent agreement. 

They break apart, and it’s good that the couch is so huge, because like this, Adam can just crawl around the threeway cuddle pile and settle behind Gansey, while Ronan moves to press himself against Blue from behind. She hums happily and tips her head back.

“You really do smell nice, Lynch.”

“And you really are soft, maggot.”

Adam fits in right behind Gansey, knees hooking behind Gansey’s so they’re perfectly spooning. Gansey’s shoulders are less broad or hard or tattooed than Ronan’s, and his scent is less prominent, more subtle, elegant aftershave and expensive soap. 

Adam gently puts his hand over Gansey and on Noah’s hips. Ronan’s hand joins his a moment later, and their fingers tangle. 

“This is very nice.”, Noah says. His voice is muffled by Gansey’s polo shirt. 

Everyone hums in agreement. Then, a comfortable silence falls over them.


	10. Burning, burning (pynch nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i mixed two prompts here. come check them out on my tumblr! enjoy ;) also, if anyone has some Sarchengsey prompt ideas, or other poly ship prompt ideas, please give them to meeee <3

i.

The first time, it happens ironically, because that’s how Ronan Lynch does most things that he’s insecure about. 

Gansey calls Blue “love” in front of them when he asks her what to bring her from Starbucks, and so Ronan, of course, has to mock him by obnoxiously turning to Adam and asking: “And what can I bring you, baby?” 

However, he hasn’t anticipated the cute blush spreading over Adam’s cheeks at that. 

Later that evening, Ronan gathers all of his courage. He doesn’t fear night horrors anymore, or blood, or demons, because he survived all of them; but he still fears rejection by Adam Parrish. So, he gathers all of his courage, and, when they’re snuggling into bed, says “Good night, babe.”. He says it quietly enough that Adam could act like he didn’t hear, especially with only one of his ears working and all. 

But Adam does hear. For a moment, he stiffens behind Ronan, and Ronan’s heart misses a beat, but then Adam melts into him from behind and presses a kiss to his neck. 

“Good night, Ronan.”

The way Adam says his name gives him the best kind of goosebumps. 

-

ii.

The way Ronan calls him baby makes Adam feel so soft, like a popsicle on a hot day, melting away. Ronan doesn’t have Adam’s thick Henrietta accent, but the way he says the word is still different from how everyone else would say it. Maybe because it’s Ronan, or maybe because Ronan means it and because Adam believes him. 

It makes him feel soft and mushy, and it makes him blush. Being friends with Ronan had Adam thinking he had lost all ability to blush, between dirty jokes and latin innuendos, but this... well. Adam is re-discovering his ability to blush.

Ronan never calls him that in public, and Adam is grateful, but at home...well. 

Adam curses his own, conservative, homophobic upbringing at first, because even though he blushes and his heart warms up when Ronan calls him nicknames, his inner voice, which sounds an awful lot like his father, scolds that it’s girly, unmanly, and calls him faggot and worse. Adam, objectively, knows it’s stupid, because Ronan calling him sweet names doesn’t mean shit for his sexuality or gender identity, but it still sucks. 

It takes him a while, but Adam works very hard to let himself enjoy the softness of it, the sweet affection which everyone else would think impossible coming from Ronan Lynch.

Then, after a particularly long, hard day, Ronan hugs him, kisses his forehead and as Adam leans into him and enjoys having someone to lean against, whispers: “I’ve got you, baby.”, Adam knows he’s done it, because he physically melts. He sags against Ronan, feeling his cheeks heat up in record time as the sentence replays in his head again and again. Ronan looks a bit surprised, but holds Adam up, a slightly incredulous grin on his lips. 

“You really do like it a lot when I call you baby, don’t you?”

Adam only manages to nod; his throat closes up. He doesn’t know what’s happening, where’s this snarky, witty Adam who can stand right up to Ronan?! Where are the great comebacks that render Ronan speechless? They seem to have drowned in this cheesy pink sea of affection and softness in him. He nods again. “...makes me feel all... all soft.”, he eventually confesses. Soft. It used to have such a negative connotation, but is it really bad to be soft? Leaning against Ronan, letting Ronan hold him up and being weak, tired, hurt in front of him, that’s just trust. And... well, this big word with the four letter that’s so hard to say. 

Ronan’s grin broadens. “Soft?” 

Adam nods again. 

Ronan’s chest is hard and warm, his strong arms are holding Adam in place, and Adam exhales, allowing himself to assess the situation and his feelings. 

When Ronan’s lips brush over his neck, his train of thought unfortunately derails. “Do you need to feel soft tonight?”, Ronan asks very quietly. His hands run over Adam’s back in soothing circles. 

Adam nods again.

“What do you need, baby?”, Ronan asks, then, and Adam melts a little more, “...what is it? I’ll give it to you.”

Words are failing Adam, and he resorts to actions, grabbing Ronan’s hand and pulling him towards the bedroom.

“Soft”, echoes in his mind, and Adam thinks that he’s going to define the word for himself now. 

\- 

iii. (nsfw)

Ronan follows Adam, and suddenly, this feels like jumping off a cliff together, falling into the sea together, hand in hand. 

They’re in the bedroom, and Adam turns around to him. His cheeks are still flushed, so beautifully flushed, and Ronan lifts his hand, presses a thumb against Adam’s cheekbone. Adam’s eyes close, slowly, and his mouth opens. He turns his head, and then Ronan’s thumb is between his lips. He sucks it in, and Ronan’s body hits the surface of the water as Adam’s cheeks hollow just slighly as his lips start to swell. 

“Adam...”, he says, and his voice is low and then suddenly stuck in his throat when Adam’s eyes open and burn, burn, burn through Ronan. 

With an obscene, wet noise, he lets go off Ronan’s thumb. Spit smears down his chin, just a little, glistening.

“I want to bottom today, Ronan.” Burning, burning. “I need to.” 

Adam’s voice is low and husky and so needy, desperate, almost. His hands tug at Ronan’s shirt; Ronan discards it so violently that it rips a little at the seams; Adam is pawing at his jeans already. They quickly land on the floor next to the shirt. 

The way Adam undresses makes Ronan’s whole world stop, makes him forget how to breathe. Usually, Adam simply discards of his clothing, practical, maybe folding his shirt, but today, he takes it off almost tentatively, and it’s as if Ronan sees him naked for the first time again. 

Ronan is on the bed on his back by now, propped up on his elbows, as Adam finally steps out of his boxers. His arms are becoming hard and thicker than they used to be, strong muscles working under tan, freckled skin. He’s a work of art.

“You’re beautiful.”, Ronan breathes out as Adam climbs on top of him.

Adam kisses him. 

More often than not, Adam tops. Not because he doesn’t enjoy bottoming. It’s just how they work. And Adam likes being in control, Ronan knows that, likes knowing he’s the one leading. And he’s good at it. Ronan likes following, often. 

“I wanna ride you.”, Adam drawls, his accent making a charming appearance. Ronan loves his accent. Especially if it’s carried by words like these. 

“Fuck, Adam, yes.”, Ronan breathes, and lets his hands grip Adam’s thighs. “Yes.”, he repeats. Adam’s eyes are desperate, filled with need. He needs to be touched., Ronan thinks. And then he does. His hands run up Adam’s thighs. Adam’s erection is heavy between them, touching Ronan’s stomach just a little bit as Adam straddles him. Ronan wraps one hand around it, starting slow. The noise it coaxes out of Adam is angelic. 

“Ronan...” Adam’s voice is so urgent, and then he grips the wrist of Ronan’s other hand, pulling it up to his mouth, and puts Ronan’s fingers on his tongue again. 

Ronan feels his own erection twitch as Adam coats his index and middle finger in saliva, and then, still holding his wrist, leads his hand behind him. Ronan get the hint. 

It doesn’t take long to work Adam open. One finger slides up easily, and the second follows soon, making Adam’s hips buck forward. A steady stream of “Ronan, Ronan...” and low, sweet moans cheer Ronan on. 

-

Burning, burning.

With clumsy hands, Adam reaches forward, ripping open the drawer of Ronan’s night stand. Ronan’s fingers inside him move and Adam’s eyelids flutter for a moment. 

Lube, a condom.

He can’t wait much longer.

He tosses the condom to Ronan. It lands on his chest. 

“Put it on.”, Adam urges, and then he whines when Ronan pulls his fingers out, leaving him empty and waiting.

This is what he needs. 

This is good. This is perfect. 

Adam feels still soft, still so, so soft, when he looks down at Ronan, because his heart is still mushy. And yet, he’s the one in control. 

Soft doesn’t mean weak. 

The bottle of lube clicks when Ronan opens and closes it. Adam rocks on top of him, forward and back, waiting impatiently. 

Ronan coats himself in the clear gel. When he wipes the excess off on Adam’s hole, Adam shudders. 

“Hold still.”, he commands, and reaches backwards, gripping Ronan’s cock by the root. 

Ronan makes a strangles, throaty noise which is wonderfully satisfying but pulls his hands away, placing them on Adam’s thighs again. 

Adam concentrates, eyes closed, and then lines Ronan up before slowly, carefully, sinking down. 

Ronan fills him perfectly, and it’s so good. 

Adam lets out a breathy moan when he’s fully seated. 

“Fuck, baby...”, Ronan pants, “...look so good right now... you feel so good...” Adam feels his hands on his thighs twitch. Adam opens his eyes again, and sees Ronan stare up at him, almost star-struck. 

Adam starts to move. 

They both fall into the rythm they know. Adam makes the pace and Ronan follows eagerly.

Adam moves and he’s still melting, dissolving, becoming one with Ronan, everything mixing: their sweat, their saliva, their moans. 

Adam needs it, he needs this so badly, feeling in control, and yet, givining some of the control up to Ronan.

“Make me come, Ronan.”, he pants, bouncing up and down. It’s a cheeky order, daring, but Adam knows Ronan can follow this order perfectly fine. 

And he does. 

\- 

iv.

“Make me come, Ronan.”

Ronan’s toes curl so hard his calf cramps a little, but he does not care right now. All he cares about is Adam, beautiful Adam, taking what he needs on top of Ronan. 

Ronan reaches out with both hands. Touching Adam’s hot skin feels real in the best way. 

His thumbs stroke over two tan nipples, making Adam’s head loll back. Ronan does it again, and again, and then once more until Adam’s cock is dripping with pre-come, smearing all over Ronan’s stomach as Adam rocks up and down on top of him. 

Ronan is close, too, so close, but he knows he needs to hold himself back. He curls his toes harder. This is about Adam. 

“Ronan...” Adam whines, and Ronan has to bite his lip, hard, to prevent himself from coming into Adam right then and there. 

“Shh, baby...”, he manages to press out. Adam whines again. Fuck. 

Ronan trails his hand lower, and then wraps it around Adam’s cock which is slick with his pre-come already. 

He gives it a stroke, not teasing, meaning it. Once, twice, three times. 

Adam starts to shake on top of him, and hell. Ronan can feel his own balls pull up already, and then, he strokes Adam once more, and Adam comes. 

Burning, burning.

He shoots so hard that a little lands on Ronan’s chin. Ronan doesn’t mind, because as Adam comes on top of him, his muscles clench rythmically, and that sends Ronan flying over the edge as well. 

They come together, at the same time. 

-

v.

Afterwards, Adam’s legs are shaky, and he feels stretched out and dirty in the best kind of way. What he also feels is calm. 

After cleaning up Adam’s mess and his own, Ronan comes back to bed and they snuggle together, Adam curled into Ronan’s side. 

“That was fun.”, Adam quietly says. 

Ronan snorts. “It was fucking incredible, Adam.”

A grin tugs on Adam’s lips. He falls asleep like this, smiling, and Ronan’s nose pressed into his hair.


	11. Sarchengsey- Dancing

Upon returning home from a long and exhausting weekend with his parents, smiling for his mother’s campagne, making small talk and letting old people pinch his cheeks and tell him how handsome he is, Gansey notices two things when he enters Monmouth Manifacturing: there’s music on, and it smells like cake. 

He expected Blue to be here, but when he steps into the main rooms, he finds both Blue and Henry in the Bathroom Kitchen Laundry. Music is blaring, a cheery, happy pop song, upbeat and cute. Like Henry. Gansey is pretty sure this is his playlist.

Gansey takes a moment to hover in the doorway, and a smile makes its way on his lips as he watches. Neither of them have noticed him yet, busy with pottering around with two bowls and a muffin tin as well as singing along, loudly and enthusiastically. 

The next song starts, and it’s the same kind of happy and upbeat. 

“Oh! I love this song!”, Blue screams over the beat, and wiggles her butt a bit. Gansey, now grinning, watches as Henry reaches for Blue’s hips. 

“Come on then!” 

The muffin tin hits the sink loudly when Blue drops it and lets Henry spin her around. 

Gansey’s heart lights up violently when Henry and Blue start jumping around and dancing, Blue wriggly and adorable, Henry with real grace even though it’s just silly and fun. Blue giggles when Henry spins her, and then she spins Henry and has to stand on her tip toes so she can reach over his head. 

Laughing, Henry whirls around, and then spots Gansey. Gansey is almost a little sad, because that means he can’t keep standing here, letting the feeling of home and warmth enclose him as he watches his two favourite people dance and laugh. He grins and waves a hand. 

“Ganseyboy!”, Henry exclaims, at the same moment that Blue yelps “Gansey!”.

She whooshes by Henry, running into Gansey’s arms. It’s one of Gansey’s favourite thing in the world. She jumps, and he catches her, stumbling back a little as she wraps her arms around him and buries her face in his shoulder. 

“Hi.”, Gansey says softly. Her hair smells like cake batter and herbal shampoo. This is when he feels most alive. 

Henry comes over to them, sauntering slowly, giving them space, but Gansey smiles at him, and Henry’s face lights up. He’s still a little self-conscious about feeling like and intruder sometimes. Gansey wants to make him feel welcomed. 

Blue lets go and slides to her feet, arms still wrapped around Gansey’s neck. Gansey reaches out for Henry, and Henry takes his hand, lets Gansey pull him close. He presses a kiss to Gansey’s cheek, and the skin burns as it blushes. 

“We missed you.” 

“I missed you, too.” Gansey takes a deep breath. 

In the background, the song plays on.


	12. Drunk, adorable Adam

_Adam, 3:41:  
i just put the letter into the mailbox. it’s done. Officially enrolled now._

_Blue, 3:42:  
YAASSS you GO ADAM so happy for you! _

_Gansey, 3:42:  
Adam, I am so happy for you and so proud of you. One of the first steps into the life you’ve always wanted. I’m tearing up a little bit to be honest. _

_Henry, 3:43:  
HELL YES Parrish, congrats. _

_Adam, 3:46:  
Thanks, guys ♥_

 

_Ronan, 4:01:  
party at the barns at 7_

-

“Yo, college boy.”, Ronan greets Adam when he arrives at the Barns, an hour early of course. His face is split with a genuinly happy grin that feels like a privilege to Adam every time. It’s beautiful. 

Adam himself grins as he meets Ronan by the steps of the front porch. “Hey, farm boy.” Ronan leans down to kiss Adam hello. It’s sweet and warm like the Henrietta late afternoon sun bathing them in her glow. 

Adam laughs when Ronan hooks his arm around his neck and drags him up the stairs, Adam stumbling after him and pawing at his sides and arms. “Behold, the smartest man of Henrietta! Adam fucking genius Parrish! Here he comes!” He imitates fanfares with his mouth and it’s so ridiculous and stupid and Adam has to laugh until his eyes water while trying to wrestle out of Ronan’s grip. They eventually land on the couch, Adam on top, and when Ronan finally lets go of him, Adam props himself up on his hands left and right to Ronan’s head. Ronan reaches up, wrapping his hands around Adam’s (by now, rather significant) biceps (- thanks, weight class), and the look in his eyes turns intense. Adam holds it. 

“...not to go Dick Gansey on you, Adam, but I’m also proud as fuck of you.” Ronan says it deliberately slow, as if he has to force himself to not speak fast and stumble over his words. 

“Thank you.”, Adam replies, voice sincere even though his eyes light up. 

Ronan nods once, and then he moves his hips, pushing Adam forward so he topples over the arm rest of the couch and falls off, and they’re laughing again. 

-

The rest of the gang arrives precisely at 6 (which is undoubtedly Gansey’s doing. Henry and Blue never get anywhere on time on their own). 

Until then, Ronan and Adam prepared food (chili) and Ronan mysteriously conjoured up drinks from somewhere. Possibly his dreams. Adam would rather not know. 

Adam stands on the porch as the three of them climb out of the Pig, and he can’t fight the huge smile on his face as Gansey actually runs to him, like Blue usually does, and pulls him in such a ferocious, all-out, 100% bear hug that Adam forgets to breathe for just a second. 

“I’m so freaking proud of you, Adam, really, you deserve it and...oh, gosh.” Adam rolls his eyes with a sheepish little laugh when Gansey pulls back and wipes at his eyes, cheeks flushed and smile still on his lips. 

“Gansey...”, Adam starts, but Henry interrupts them. 

“Sorry, man, Dick’s on his period.” He extends a hand to Adam, ignoring Gansey’s huffs, and when Adam takes it, pulls him into a surprisingly manly hug. “Congrats, dude.” 

Blue is last, and she just stand in front of him for a moment, beaming, hands pressed to her sternum. He looks back at her with a lopsided smile. The girl who started it all. Today she’s wearing denim dungarees over something that might have been one of Gansey’s polos once upon a time before she attacked it with scissors and rhinestones. She looks ridiculous, and Adam can’t help but think how he loves her. Differently than he thought he would when he first met her. But still. 

Blue steps forward and lifts her hands to Adam’s cheeks. “If you don’t come visiting us at least once a month, I’m gonna kick your ass.”, she says affectionately. 

“Is that a promise?”, Adam retorts softly. Blue does her best to mimick Ronan’s death stare and looks like a mad kitten. 

“You can bet your ass on that, Adam Parrish.” Her accent is strong enough to match his own when she says it, and then she stands on her tippiest tippy toes to kiss his cheek before slapping it lightly. 

-

Adam hasn’t felt this light in... ever. 

This is real, this is reality now. He’s going to college. Ronan Lynch is his boyfriend. Blue, Henry and Gansey are still his friends. Gansey is still alive. 

Cabeswater is still on his mind, still whispering, still demanding attention. But it’s as if, the more Adam acquires this peace within himself, the more does Cabeswater. They co-exist in harmony. Adam is slowly starting to learn to master his magic, leading it instead of letting it take over the reins. 

Everything is good. He’s relaxed.

They’re all drinking. Gansey is sipping wine, Henry went with some sort of unholy sugary pink mixed drink, Blue is alternating between stealing sips of Gansey’s wine and nursing her own beer. Ronan has emptied three bottles of beer already. Noone is asking Adam if he wants a drink, too, because usually, Adam Parrish doesn’t drink. Too many bad memories of beer on his father’s breath, and too many bad memories of him losing control after drinking. 

But that’s the old Adam. An Adam from another life that already seems unreal and distant. 

“Can I have some?”, he asks, pointing to Ronan’s beer. Ronan pulls up one eyebrow, but silently hands the bottle to Adam.

\- 

The world is all spinny and Adam feels all warm and Ronan is all so fucking...hot. 

“You’re so fucking hot, Ronan.”, Adam tells him and Ronan laughs. “Thanks, Adam.” His voice is still so stable when he talks, how does he do that? Adam doesn’t know.

He reaches out and gently presses his finger into the dip right under Ronan’s adam’s apple. So soft, so smooth... 

Adam leans forward and lets his head rest against Ronan’s chest. So warm. 

He can feel the vibration of Ronan’s laughter.

“Who knew Parrish gets all adorable when he’s drunk.”, Ronan says, and Adam is a little bit sure that he said it to Gansey. But not completely sure so he looks up, turning around in his spot. 

Gansey is sitting cross-legged on the floor, Blue sitting behind him on the sofa, leaning down. Her boobs rest on top of Gansey’s head and he looks rather pleased about it. Henry’s not here. Where is he...?

“Has... has Henry gone...?”, Adam asks, and then yawns a big yawn, stretching a little. 

Blue chuckles. “...no, sweetheart, he just went to pee.” 

The ‘sweetheart’ makes him smile. “Okay... I thought he might...might have gone... I would’a been sad if he had... cause... cause Cheng’s just...” Adam clenches his fist with a wobbly movement. Ronan behind him laughs. “-just so... nice. So friggin’... nice. He- Cheng!”

Henry, reentering the room, grins at Adam. “Parrish!” 

“Come here... you and your...gloril... glorious hair.” 

Henry leans down as the others laugh, and let’s Adam pet his hair. It’s beautiful. 

“I’m gonna pack a suitcase... pack a...” Adam hiccups, and Ronan behind him wheezes of laughter, “pack a suitcase with all of you in it. All. Of. You.” He emphasizes the words by pointing at each one of them. 

“...gonna take aaaall of you with me to...to college.” He hiccups again and then falls backwards into Ronan’s arms. Ronan wraps them around him. 

“Adorable.”, he hears Gansey say, and Blue giggles. 

Adam loses himself in Ronan’s eyes. Ronan’s fingertips stroke up and down his arm and the feeling of it pulls Adam in, makes his mind focus on it, and only it. 

Ronan’s hands are so beautiful... and his arms... ever since he’s working more on the farm, they’ve become so... what’s the word... 

Adam forgets.

Ronan looks at him with that intense gaze again, and it’s just so hot. 

Adam pulls up, and tries to whisper. “...I really want to blow you right now.” 

Gansey, Blue and Henry all three start laughing when Ronan’s cheeks light up with a blush. Maybe his whisper wasn’t a whisper. 

“Oopsie...sorry, Ronan.” It sounds like ‘saaaaahry Ronan.’ with his accent. 

“Maybe it’s time to go to bed.”, Gansey suggests with amusement in his voice, dad mode on. 

Adam sits up and finger guns at him. “Maybe it’s time you...” He can’t think of a joke so he just shuts up. He falls back again. Ronan ‘oof’-es when Adam hits his chest. 

“I’m sleepin’ here. This is my bed. Good night.” 

The bed wraps his arms around him. “I’m not carrying you upstairs later.”, Ronan threatens, but at the same time, kisses Adam’s head. 

Adam falls asleep to the feeling of warm fuzz in his brain and veins, and his heart, too.


	13. Either-or (pynch nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo some more pynch smut ;) anyone have any good (smutty) ideas for prokopinsky? :) I'd love to write them.

With Ronan Lynch and Adam Parrish, there are no in-betweens, no mediocres, no averages. With Ronan Lynch and Adam Parrish, it’s either-or, it’s dealing in extremes, it’s one of two ends on a spectrum. Their whole relationship is like that, and their sex life is, too. 

-

Sometimes, it’s gasps and soft touches, lights out, under the covers, small movements, tongues on warm skin, star struck, in love. 

Ronan gasps Adam’s name softly when Adam pushes into him, moves controlled and small, dragging it out as long as they can, until Ronan is reduced to a squirming, sweaty mess, eyes hooded, lips hanging open. Until Adam’s hands have touched every part of Ronan’s skin. Their eyes are fixed on each other, Ronan’s hands tangled in Adam’s hair, Adam’s hands running over Ronan’s chest or his arms. 

Soft words moaned with soft voices, praise and confessions. 

 

“Adam... Adam... please, Adam... feels so good...” 

“Fuck, babe, you look so beautiful...”

“Adam... love you...please...feels so good...”

It ends with both of them spent and tired, warm and sated. They roll over and Ronan snuggles into Adam’s chest, surprisingly soft and sweet, and Adam strokes Ronan’s back and his neck and his shaved head as Ronan presses soft kisses to Adam’s pecs or his shoulder and his neck. After a while, when they get sticky, Adam says: “...come on, let’s shower. I’ll help you clean up.” and it’ll make Ronan shiver, the sheer affection in Adam’s voice and words. 

-

Sometimes, it’s the opposite. 

It’s hard fingers and teeth, spit and sweat and come, it’s bruises and marks and feeling the best kind of sore afterwards. 

Adam’s fingers dig into Ronan’s ass, and Ronan feels like he’s going cross-eyed from the need, and so he begs and begs, kneels in front of Adam, between his knees, letting Adam rub his cheek just hard enough that it hurts a little, opens his mouth wide, sticks out his tongue willingly, looks like a porn star when the tip of Adam’s cock drags over his cheeks which hollow a moment later when Ronan sucks it between his lips. 

Adam’s groans make Ronan’s cock throb in his jeans, but he doesn’t touch himself yet, waiting for permission. 

He swallows Adam down, deeper and deeper, until Adam moans and praises Ronan’s mouth. 

“Get in my lap, darlin’, right now, let me fuck you.”

With a wet pop, Ronan pulls back and scrambles to his feet, discarding his pants as fast as he can, and then climbs in Adam’s lap, straddling him. He moans when Adam’s fingers find his nipples and pinch hard enough to hurt just a little, and then he moans even louder when Adam slides into him, wet from his spit, pulling apart Ronan’s buttocks. 

They’re not making love, they’re fucking, and it makes Ronan forget his own name when Adam pushes into him, hard, hitting his prostate, making Ronan leak all over their stomachs. 

“Come inside me, Adam, please, fill me up, need your come...” 

Adam groans and then he comes, and Ronan follows him over the edge, the mere idea of Adam coming into him setting him off. 

Afterwards, Ronan slumps against Adam’s chest, and Adam, eyes closed, gently moves his mouth over Ronan’s shoulder, tasting his sweat, kissing the heated skin and then sucks a mark into it, right above Ronan’s collar bone. When he’s done, he presses a kiss to it. 

“Mine.”, he whispers, and then catches Ronan’s lips for a kiss. 

“Yours.”, Ronan confirms. It’s glorious. 

-

No matter how it happens, it’s always perfect, because Ronan Lynch and Adam Parrish wouldn’t settle for mediocre.


	14. Rose Tattoo (pynch)

“Would you ever want to get more ink?”, Adam asks while trailing his fingers over Ronan’s back tattoo, fingertips tickling the sharp edges and thorns. 

Ronan hums. “...yeah... why not?” His voice is muffled, his face buried in Adam’s chest. “...would you?”

Adam thinks for a moment, then replies: “Nah... I don’t think I’m the type for tattoos.”

“Yeah.”, Ronan agrees. Adam’s beauty is the sort that should be enjoyed like nature had intended it. Also, preferrably naked. 

“Would you get one for Chainsaw? One of Chainsaw?”, Adam asks, and Ronan can hear the grin in his voice, “...or Opal? Or Gansey? Gansey for sure. A polo shirt. Right on your biceps.” Adam wraps his strong hand around Ronan’s biceps, and Ronan can’t help but laugh, even if he pinches Adam’s side. This playful, fun, light-hearted Adam- Ronan wants to treasure moments like these forever. 

“I’m gonna get a face tattoo... of your face.”, he retorts, and reaches upward to press his palm against Adam’s cheek. 

Adam nips at his palm and laughs. “That would definitely be an improvement.”

“Fuck you, Parrish.”

-

Ronan remembers that conversation two years later. 

The tatto isn’t dreamt, but the sketch for it is. Ronan’s can’t draw for shit, especially not like this. 

“You sure?”, the girl at the tattoo parlour says. Her purple hair is twisted into an artsy roll on top of her head and her temple is dotted with some sort of polka dot pattern of black ink. Blue would probably immediately fall in love with her and forget Gansey to run away with tattoo parlour girl. Ronan smirks at the thought. 

“...names are always something to be careful with.”, the girl goes on. 

Ronan stares at her, and he has to acknowledge that she holds his gaze. “I am sure.”, he says firmly. 

She smiles. “Lucky guy, your Adam. Come on, then.”

-

Ronan, 11:32  
i did a thing

Adam, 11:35  
what thing

Ronan, 11:40  
surprise

Adam, 11:43  
idiot. visit me on the weekend and show me or tell me all about it? ♥

Ronan throws his phone a little bit. That fucking heart. If Adam knows what that does to him? Surely. He retrieves the phone.

Ronan, 11:51  
k

-

Adam stares long enough that Ronan becomes uncomfortable. 

“...can you please fucking say something?”

Adam reaches out and touches the tattoo with soft fingers. “Did you dream it?”

“No. I actually went to a parlour.” Ronan huffs a little. “...you know what, I can just..dream it away, I guess. Or have it lasered-”

“No.” The fast pace in which it comes out makes Ronan’s heart miss a beat. “...no.”, Adam repeats, a little slower this time. “...I... I like it. It’s beautiful. Suits you.”

“Like you, then.”, Ronan replies smoothly, hoping Adam won’t notice how red his ears are getting. 

Adam shoves at his arm slightly, but laughs. “...Ronan’s, honestly, this is the most...Henrietta thing you’ve ever done.” 

Ronan snorts. “Isn’t that your aesthetics? Your hot, ripped, southern farmer boyfriend who now, in addition, has a tattoo of your name in a rose on his biceps? Ain’t ‘bad country boy’ your type?” 

“Stop praising yourself or you’ll start smelling of bullshit.” There’s no malice in Adam’s voice, just a smile. 

He trails his fingers over the petals of the rose again. It’s intricate, intimate... and a little hillbilly. And Adam has to admit that Ronan is right: even though it’s such a stupid decision to make, it’s oddly sweet, oddly intriguing to him. That Ronan is proud enough of him to wear his name on his body, a constant reminder of who... who he belongs to, a branding of some sort. The thought is possessive, but Adam lets it be. Because he knows that’s what Ronan intended. 

He leans forward and kisses the healing skin gently. 

“Don’t be a sap.”, Ronan scolds, but his voice is very soft. 

“Hey, you’re the one who has a flower tattoo now.”, Adam pulls back with a smirk. 

Ronan rolls his eyes, pushes at Adam’s shoulder until Adam falls backwards onto his bed, and then climbs on top of Adam, straddling him, kissing any further snarky remarks from his lips.


	15. pwp pynch: eating ass and sucking dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title says it all i guess ;)

Ronan watches as Adam bends over the BMW’s open hood. His arms are all greasy, his shirt is riding up, granting Ronan view of the dimples right above Adam’s ass. It’s glorious. Adam is wearing cargo pants which make him look like he came straight out of a porno titled “Hot country boy gets a good fucking” or something equally eloquent. Ronan’s favourite kind of porn. 

“Hey Parrish.” Ronan steps behind Adam, and he can’t keep his hands off of Adam. They find Adam’s buttocks, kneading that perfect, firm flesh that’s so exposed from Adam bending over. 

“I’m working, Lynch.”, Adam comments, but Ronan notices how he presses himself back into Ronan’s palms. “Want me to fuck up your car because you were distractin’ me?” 

Adam’s accent is thick in his voice, and fuck, that’s hot. 

“If you fuck up my car, I’m gonna fuck you up.”, Ronan growls and digs his fingertips into Adam’s ass, hard enough that Adam might bruise just a little. Adam suppresses a groan. He reaches out, slams the hood shut, and then turns out so Ronan and him are face to face. Adam leans against the car so Ronan is even taller than he usually is. 

“Oh yeah?”

It sounds like a challenge. Ronan Lynch has never been one to say no to a challenge. 

“Fuck yeah.” 

“Think you can?”, Adam replies, and there’s a gleam in his eyes.

“I know I can.”, Ronan growls, and his voice is razor blade sharp. 

“All talk, no action.” Adam lifts his hands, and then he shoves at Ronan’s chest, making Ronan stumble back a step, surprisingly hard. Well, maybe not all that surprisingly. 

A sharp grin spreads on Ronan’s face and, for some reason, he can feel his blood rush south. Sick, he thinks. But he can see a matching bulge in Adam’s cargo pants already. 

“Think you can win a fight against me, country boy?”, Ronan snarls, and then he lashes out and, faster than Adam can react, has his hand wrapped around the back of Adam’s neck, pulling him closer. Adam tries to pull away, but Ronan is stronger, so Adam pushes against Ronan’s chest, hard, and a moment later, they’re grappling at each other and brawling. Not hard, of course, never, but just hard enough to ground them, to give them both something to take the edge off. 

And then, Ronan has Adam pinned against the BMW, his whole body pressed against Adam’s backside so Adam can barely move anymore, and Ronan just knows Adam’s giving in, is letting him. 

“I think I won.”, Ronan growls in Adam’s ear, and fuck, he can see the goosebumps spread over Adam’s exposed neck. 

“This time.”, Adam grits out from between clenched teeth. 

Ronan barks out a laugh, and then moves his hips to rub his bulge against Adam’s ass. “What do I get for winning?”

There’s a pause in which Adam pushes back. Ronan can hear his breath hitch. “Whatever you can take.”

“Fucking hell, Parrish.”, Ronan groans, because now, he’s fully hard in his pants. 

“Overwhelmed already, Lynch?”, Adam asks cheekily, but then he chokes a little when Ronan’s hand closes around his ass and starts kneading again. Adam keens and arches into the touch as Ronan’s fingertips slip under the waistband and meet naked, hot skin. 

“Overwhelmed already, Parrish?”, Ronan asks. He uses his other hand to rub over Adam’s hard, blood hot groin which makes Adam moan again. “Bend over the hood.”, he orders, and Adam does. 

A hard rip, and the cargo pants hang between Adam’s ankles. Ronan takes a moment to admire the soft skin, standing out against the tan strip of Adam’s back peeking out under his shirt. 

Then Ronan slaps it, and Adam gasps. Ronan could spend hours playing with Adam’s ass, jiggling it, slapping it. Licking it. 

He sinks to his knees behind Adam, and Adam arches his back, welcoming Ronan enthusiastically. 

“Put your feet further apart.”, he orders, and Adam obeys. The cargo pants slide down to his ankles. Adam arches his back, and now Ronan has to bite back a groan. 

“Ronan-”, he chokes out, and his hands grapple for purchase on the sleek hood of the BMW when Ronan unceremoniously leans in and licks a wet stripe over Adam’s hole, and then spits on it before going back in. 

Adam thinks his legs might give in, but Ronan’s hands come up to his hips, holding him up. This feels a lot like he is the one getting something out of this. But the soft noises coming from Ronan, muffled by Adam’s hot flesh, beg to differ. 

Ronan’s tongue is unrelenting as it breaches Adam’s hole. A very southern-sounding “Son of a- fuck- Ronan-” escapes him when Ronan reaches forward between his legs and cups Adam’s balls. 

Ronan eats ass like he fights: throwing his whole body into it. It makes Adam go cross-eyed a little, and makes him drip all over Ronan’s hand which, by now, has wrapped around Adam’s hard cock and is stroking him in sync with the thrusts of Ronan’s tongue. 

Adam can feel his orgasm slowly rolling closer. He didn’t know this feeling before he started having sex with Ronan. When he used to take care of himself, it was always fast and sudden. But with Ronan, his orgasms come slower, Ronan teasing them out of him. 

“Ronan- I’m gonna shoot.”, he manages to gasp out, and Ronan groans, his hand moving faster, and Adam wants to come so badly, but at the same time, an idea bubbles up in his head. 

“Wait- stop, Ronan-”

Ronan does, of course, and then, Adam moves so fast that Ronan lets out a surprised, slightly starled noise, and then they’ve switched places, Ronan’s back pressed against the hood of the BMW, Adam kneeling and already working on Ronan’s fly. 

Ronan doesn’t question it, because now Adam wraps his hand around Ronan’s erection, and then, blue eyes catch his, and then Adam’s pretty lips wrap around the head of Ronan’s cock. 

“Shit!”, Ronan curses, and buries one of his hands in Adam’s hair while using the other one to hold himself up on the BMW. 

Adam pulls his mouth off Ronan to gasp “Wanna come while you come on my face.” before quickly going back in again. Ronan thinks he might just have popped a vein in his temple. 

Adam’s right hand is working his own cock, dribbling pre-come all over the cargo pants and the dusty ground while his mouth and left hand work Ronan. Adam’s cheeks hollow, the noise of it slick and filthy, and Ronan feels his orgasm approach, toes curling in his boots, base of his spine starting to tingle. 

“Fuck, Adam- I’m-” 

Adam pulls back just in time, still stroking Ronan with his hand, eyes blissed out, trained on Ronan’s cock. Ronan shoots, and it lands on Adam’s perfect cheekbone, and, hell, Ronan has to treasure this image for his spank bank forever. 

His come drips down Adam’s cheek, over his lip, and Adam sticks out his tongue, licking it up, and then his own hips buck forward as he shoots his own load all over the dirty ground and a little over Ronan’s shoes. 

After, they both need a moment to breathe. 

“Fucking hell, Parrish…”, Ronan hums, and reaches out, dragging a thumb through the mess on Adam’s face. “That was hot.”

Adam squints up at him, and there is a trace of a smirk on his come-stained lips. “Hand me a rag, Lynch.” He stands up, holding on to Ronan’s waist for stability. 

Ronan grins, and then leans in, licking the mess of Adam’s face. 

Adam starts laughing, partly startled, partly disgusted. “Ronan, ew!” 

“Quicker than a rag.”, Ronan just comments and buttons his pants up. 

“More disgusting, too. Come on now, I need a shower.” Adam pulls his own pants up as well, and then grabs the front of Ronan’s tank top to pull him inside. “And maybe we should wash your mouth out with soap.”

Ronan snorts but follows Adam. “Far too late for that, Adam. Besides, you like my dirty mouth.”

Adam lightly slaps Ronan’s pecs, but doesn’t disagree.


	16. Bad Pick Up Lines

“I’m back!”, Adam calls as he closes the front door behind himself. The enormous pizza box in his arms makes it a little hard to hold his balance while he kicks off his shoes, but it works out. No delivery service delivers to the Barns, because the Barns are located in the middle of nowhere. So whenever they crave junk food, one of them has to drive to get some, because Adam doesn’t trust food Ronan dreams up. 

He makes his way to the kitchen where Ronan’s already setting out plates. Opal is nowhere to be seen, probably out catching butterflies with her new friend: a tiny kitten Ronan got her. 

“Hey Parrish.”, he greets with his trademark sharp smile. Adam can see the happiness behind it. Although he isn’t quite sure if Ronan is happy to see him or the pizza. 

“Hey.” Adam sets down the boxes on the table and leans over to kiss Ronan hello. “So, I think I accidentally flirted extra garlic bread out of the girl working there.”, he confesses and motions to the box smelling heavenly of garlic and butter. 

Ronan makes a grab for it, snorting. “For real?” He opens it and sniffs. “What did you say to her?”

Adam shrugs. “No idea, I was just being polite. And then she told me she liked my accent and that she was happy that people from ‘round town were still ordering from them and not just ‘those darn Aglionby boys’ and then she gave me extra garlic bread.” 

Ronan snorts again and sits down opposite of Adam. “Adam Parrish, the accidental flirt. Bet you can’t even flirt.” 

Adam grabs his pizza (ham, salami, pepperoni and bell peppers) as he shoots Ronan a slightly amused look. “You think so?” 

Ronan leans back in his chair, already gnawing on a slice of spinach, egg and ham. “Show me, then.”, he challenges. 

Adam rolls his eyes and takes a gulp of soda. Then he sets the glass down, and smoothes over his expression so it becomes the sort of expression Ronan knows well: polite, kind of mysterious, interesting. The kind that makes girls whisper about how “fascinating” Adam looks. 

He doesn’t say anything, though, and Ronan feels his ears becoming red. “...stop staring, Parrish.”

“Pardon me for staring.” Adam’s accent is that heavy kind of drawl that makes Ronan’s scalp tingle, “I just can’t help it. You’re mighty handsome.” 

Ronan’s face heats up but he starts laughing, and then a moment later, Adam’s expression melts into a huge, shit-eating grin. “See, I made you blush like a school girl.” 

“Fake news.”, Ronan retorts and throws a crumb at Adam. Then he leans in, and tries not to burst into laughter when he says: “Hey, do you have a map for me? Because I keep getting lost in your eyes.” 

Adam chokes on his pizza. “Fuck, Ronan, that was a bad one.” 

“Thought you liked bad ones.”, Ronan shoots back and leans back in his chair again wiggling his eyebrows. 

Now Adam’s cheeks pink just a little as he laughs, and then he leans in, and Ronan can see something good is coming. 

“Hey baby, lemme butter your biscuits.” 

Ronan snorts so hard that he thinks his slice of pizza is about to come out of his nose. “Fuck, Parrish, you win. That’s awful.” He laughs, and Adam laughs too, a full, real, belly laugh, until they both laugh so hard that they’re wheezing. 

“Let’s- let’s teach those to Gansey-” Adam inhales hard between fits of laughter, “let’s watch him embarrass himself in front of Blue.”

“Hell yeah.”, Ronan wheezes, wiping his laughter-wet eyes with his palms, “fuck, that would be glorious.”

They laugh until their bellies hurt, and until their pizza is cold. 

But it’s alright.


	17. PDA (pynch)

Ronan and Adam aren’t the kind of couple who hold hands or are into PDA. The most they do is call each other nicknames which are borderline insults. They even still call each other by their last names more often than not, a fact that makes Gansey shake his heads and roll his eyes. 

“Everyone calls you by your last name as well.”, Blue will say, and Gansey will huff and reply that that’s an entirely different matter.

Ronan and Adam aren’t the most cutesy and lovey-dovey couple. So, when the following happens, Gansey, Blue and Henry freeze in their spots. 

It’s a morning at Monmouth, after a movie/party/drinking night, and everyone is a little rumpled. Adam, back home from college for the weekend, sits on the couch, feet curled under, thousand yard stare in his eyes and mug of coffee in his hands. Blue is curled into a ball on the other end of the couch, Henry is lounging in Gansey’s bed still, legs sticking out from under the covers (for some reason he only wears one sock), Gansey is in the kitchen-bathroom, retrieving his third cup of coffee in hopes that it will help with his hangover while Ronan is in his old room, apparently changing into a fresh set of clothes because he spilled beer on his muscle shirt last night. 

When he comes out, he slams the door just a little bit, very atypical for Ronan “slams everything” Lynch. Even his headache must be bad enough. Which is no miracle since he may have drunken a whole bottle of schnaps by himself last night.

“Morning.”, Gansey greets from the doorway of the kitchen, trying his best to smile at Ronan. His temple stings when he does. 

Ronan just grunts, walks over to the couch, and then throws himself at Adam. Adam does not seem surprised at all about this, uncurling his legs, opening his arms so Ronan can snuggle against him. 

There’s a long moment of silence in which Henry, Blue and Gansey just stare, eyes wide in surprise. 

Then Blue murmurs: “Holy shit.”, Gansey’s smile makes a reappearance, this time more beaming (stinging pain be damned- this sight is worth it) and Henry just whispers “Be still, my beating heart.” 

“Fuck the shut up.”, Ronan growls. Adam snorts. 

“That was intentional.”, Ronan grumbles, even though it clearly was not. 

Gansey exchanges a long glance with Blue, and then with Henry, before he beams at Adam who meets his eyes and gives him the smallest lopsided grin. 

Gansey sighs into his coffee, still smiling. The morning is a little better now.


	18. Polite/Possessive (prokopinsky nsfw)

The music is pumping like a heartbeat. It’s not a song, really, it’s just beat. 

Kavinsky’s forgotten what this party is about, and it’s not like he cared in the first place. There’s plenty of booze, plenty of weed, plenty of pills and other substances going around to make him feel right at home. 

It’s not an Aglionby party, that much he remembers, because there are far too many people dressed in leather and not enough dressed in button ups and pastel shorts to be an Aglionby party. 

Good. 

Kavinsky is leaning against a wall, quietly observing, drink in hand, eyes trailing after the colorful reflections the strobe lights make appear in his vision. 

Proko is dancing. 

Slow, but in tune with the beat. He looks weirdly elegant, and also fucked up. He is. Kavinsky fed him the pills himself before they got here. 

Purple bruises run in a line down Proko’s neck, well-visible with the thin tank top he’s wearing, marking him as claimed. Love-bites, Proko likes to call them. Kavinsky makes sure he stops talking everytime he mentions it. 

Proko’s jeans are tight enough that they hug his form perfectly, a nuisance to get off, but heaven to look at. Kavinsky internally claps himself on the shoulder for forging Proko so perfectly once again. 

The blonde’s eyes are closed as he sways from side to side, blissed out, high as a kite. Just the way Kavinsky likes him best. 

K takes out his pack of cigs and lights one, momentarily taking his eyes off his property. When he looks back up, some guy has approached Proko. Kavinsky’s teeth clench so hard that his jaw stings. 

The guy makes his way dancing to Proko, who still has his eyes closed, but opens them when the guy is close enough that Proko must feel his body heat. 

K can see that Proko startles a little. The guy leans in and says something in Proko’s ear. Fucker. Kavinsky stuffs the lighter back into his pocket and finishes his drink in one gulp, then makes his way on the dance floor.

Up close, he can see Proko is blushing and looking apologetic, and trying to pull back from the guy. Polite. Kavinsky made him this way. 

When he reaches them, the guy is in the process of putting his filthy hand on Proko’s hip.

Kavinsky slaps it away. 

The guy looks up, snarling, but before he can say anything, Kavinsky lifts his hand and pushes him away. Not hard, not sudden, just two fingers digging into the guy’s sternum. 

Proko lets out a grateful gasp and melts into Kavinsky’s side. 

“I don’t like it when others try to take my toys.”, K says slowly. 

“Fuck you, man.”, the guy replies, “don’t act like you own him!” It’s clear that he’s trying to white knight here. 

“Actually, I do.” Kavinsky reaches to Proko’s neck. Proko bares it readily, letting Kavinsky grab the collar there. It looks like a normal choker from afar, but closer up, the dog tag with the letter K on it is well-visible. 

The guy distorts his face. “Sick fucker.” 

Kavinsky gives him a broad, startling and very fake grin. “That’s me. Now fuck off.” 

The guy does, turning around, but Kavinsky doesn’t watch him go. His hand still grips the collar. He tugs on it, and Proko lets out a little whine, startled, intrigued, hot. 

“Come on.” K tugs on the collar and they leave the dance floor.

-

Outside, the bass is just an undertone accompanying them into the shadows by the parking lot. 

Proko slams against the wall on the long side of the lot, and Kavinsky’s hands are all over him a moment later. 

“You’re mine.” It’s a growl. Proko answers with a small whine.

“I am, Joey, I’m yours, all yours! I would have never- I’m sorry-”, he apologizes frantically, even if none of it was his fault. But Proko likes feeling guilty, like he has something to be punished for. Another whine escapes him when Kavinsky’s hand clamps over the back of Proko’s neck. “Thank you for saving me-”, he chokes out breathlessly. 

“You’re fucking welcome.”, Kavinsky growls and his hand shifts forward until it’s wrapped around Proko’s throat. 

“Joey…”, Proko whines softly, and the pink tinge on his cheeks has deepened remarkably. Kavinsky likes seeing how much he can make Proko blush. 

“Now get on your knees and say thank you like a good boy, pet.” 

Proko drops to his knees with surprising speed, and Kavinsky maneuvers them so he is with his back to the wall, able to lean against it. The cold cinders feels weirdly real against his back. 

Proko’s fingers fly over the button on Kavinsky’s jeans. K reaches out, trailing a thumb over Proko’s plush, curved lower lip. Proko moans and opens his mouth, letting Kavinsky’s thumb press against his teeth. His eyes stay open obediently, just the way Kavinsky likes it. 

A moment later, Kavinsky’s thumb is replaced by his hardening cock. 

Proko sucks it between his lips without teasing, moaning around it like the bitch he is. He has no gag reflex, of course, and Kavinsky groans as the tip of his cock bumps against the roof of Proko’s throat. 

Proko doesn’t touch himself, focusing all his attention on Kavinsky, sucking on him, bobbing his head forward and back, taking Kavinsky in until the tip of his nose is pressed to K’s skin. He moans and spit drips down his chin, filthy and beautiful. His eyes are open and trained on his creator’s face. 

“Mine.”, K growls, and then “Fuck. Swallow.”, as he comes down Proko’s throat. 

Proko does, obedient as always. 

When Kavinsky is done and Proko pulls back, Kavinsky can see that not even a drop of his come has been wasted. “Good boy.”

Proko melts at the compliment, cheek pressing readily into the hand Kavinsky still has by his face. 

“Thank you, Joey.”, Proko whispers, eyes finally closing.

Always so polite, his pretty pet.


	19. Video Games (Blue+Ronan friendship with a pinch of pynch)

Never let it be said that Adam Parrish doesn’t have a type. He’s painfully aware of that himself whenever he sees Ronan and Blue together. Their friendship has been growing with time, like everyone else’s. But since they are so alike in many ways, carved out of the same wood, they are starting to seem like siblings.

Not in the way Gansey and Adam do, with deep understanding and trusting each other with their secrets. More like real siblings: affection, hidden under insults and sneaky punches or pinches, snarky remarks and in-jokes. 

Currently, Ronan is teaching Blue how to play video games after she complained about Henry and Gansey playing and not teaching her properly (”They always let me win! How am I supposed to learn anything, then?!”). Adam is typing a report on his laptop in the kitchen. 

“Ah!”

“Hah, maggot! Pay some attention!”

“Fuck you, Lynch!”

Adam grins and takes a sip of his tea. He can hear them brawling and playing in the living room. Something crashes, Ronan laughs. 

Adam slowly closes his laptop to look if the living room is still intact. 

When he enters, he finds Ronan plastered against the couch, holding one of his long arms up, controller in hand, while Blue, who has climbed him and is pretty much straddling him right now, reaches for it with her significantly shorter arms, pushing at his chest and insulting Ronan in rather colourful language.

Adam cocks one eyebrow. “Blue, that’s my seat.” 

Blue turns around, a little startled, and Ronan cackles, pushing her off of him. 

“I’m not trying to steal your man here, Adam-”, Blue defends herself after a shriek, “but this is foul play!” She accusingly points at Ronan who is waving the controller in her face, pulling it out of her reach as soon as she makes a grab for it. 

Adam considers them for a moment. Then he walks around the couch so he’s behind Ronan, leans forward and kisses Ronan, hard and deep and with tongue. 

Ronan’s breath hitches, and Blue next to them falls very silent. 

Adam breaks the kiss, emerging with a smirk- and the controller in his hand. 

He tosses it at Blue. “Here.” 

A huge grin pulls at her slightly pinked cheeks. “...you two really are a match.”

“Foul play.”, Ronan grumbles, trying to hide his blush.


	20. Matching Tattoos (prokopinsky)

“Joey…” Proko squirms in his lap, panting, flushed, lower lip worried raw. Kavinsky grips his hips hard, digging his fingertips into the skin there, probably leaving more bruises. 

Proko’s whole body is a field of blue and black and violet marks, all screaming property of Joseph Kavinsky.

Right above Proko’s adam’s apple, right in Kavinsky’s line of sight, one of them starts to fade, turning yellow-green-ish. 

None of those marks are permanent. 

As if Proko could read his thoughts, he bares his throat to K. Kavinsky’s grip tightens. No matter how many more marks he leaves, none of them will be forever. 

He leans forward, biting down hard on Proko’s shoulder, making him yelp and then moan. 

Proko is his, his alone. 

-

“What’s that?” Proko’s voice is slow and soft. 

“Tattoo machine.”, Kavinsky supplies briskly. 

“Are you going to give me a tattoo?”, Proko asks, but he’s already in the process of lying down on the sofa. So trusting. So perfect. 

“Yeah.” The sound of the machine (wireless, running on dream energy) is sharp and addicting. “Don’t squirm.”

The pain of the needle makes little gasps fall from Proko’s mouth.

-

Proko wears the K on his cheekbone like a crown. He flaunts it, almost, and it pleases Kavinsky deeply that his favourite forgery seems to be so proud of this branding. 

“Stop touching it.” He bats Proko’s hand away from his face. 

Proko obeys but lets out a remorseful little whine. “But I wanna remember that it’s there.” 

Deeply pleasing. 

-

Days later, Kavinsky dreams. 

It’s a quick dream, one he plunges into without even knowing what he wants from it. Just feeling that he needs something from it. 

When he wakes, his mouth hurts. 

“Fucking shit…”, he groans, clutching his chin. His lower lip throbs uncomfortably. 

He hauls himself out of bed, almost tripping over an empty bottle of vodka, and staggers into the bathroom. 

He slaps on the light switch, making the dingy, naked lamp turn on, and then leans forward towards the mirror, opening his mouth, using his index finger and thumb to pull down his lower lip. 

A black, unforgiving P stands out against the pale red, shiny skin of his inner, lower lip. 

He stares at it for a moment before letting go of his lip, making the P disappear back into his mouth again, hiding it where only he can know of it.


	21. Angst (pynch)

The memories involving Robert Parrish are like an old wound that’s slowly healing over. Sometimes it just takes Adam bumping into other memories from his past for it to break open again. 

At dinner, Opal reaches over the table for the peas, and when she does, her elbow grazes her drinking glass. Adam watches as it tips to the side, balancing on the edge of the table for a millisecond, before it tips over and lands on the floor, shattering. His stomach drops. Incidents like this one are linked to being screamed at, to being beaten, to having to go to bed without dinner. Adam can feel his heart miss a beat. 

But then Ronan snarls “Well, fuck. I’ll get the broom. Careful with your feet and the shards.” and Adam is back at the Barns, having dinner with his better family. 

He looks over to Opal, still with a weird feeling in his stomach, but she looks SO startled by the loud noise, frozen in her seat, peeking down at the shards. 

“Hey.” Adam reaches out for her, and she looks up. Her bottom lip wobbles.

“Magnus.”, she says quietly, _loud_. Like a deer, she is startled by loud noises. Adam forgot, momentarily. But now he remembers. 

“Yeah. It’s okay. Nothing happened. Are you okay?” 

She just nods and then reaches out for him. Adam lifts her up and into his lap. She rarely asks for physical affection this openly, usually she lurks around Adam or Ronan until they open their arms for her or ask her if she wants a hug. 

_This is how it’s supposed to be_ , Adam thinks, _this is how children should be treated when they do things on accident. I did better than him._

Ronan comes back with a broom and a dustpan to clean up the shards. Then, they continue their dinner. Noone is screamed at, but Adam’s stomach still churns. 

-

He’s five years old and so small. His father is so huge. His mother is also small. 

“Stupid boy!” His father grows taller. Or maybe Adam is shrinking.

“Worthless piece of shit!” 

Adam notices water droplets on his sleeves. He realizes they’re tears. 

“Stop crying like some kind of girl! What did I do to deserve a son like you?”

Adam hides in his sleeves, curls up on himself but at the same time he is frozen in his chair, unable to move as his father lifts his hand. “Answer me!”

Adam’s jaw is clenched shut because if he opens his mouth, he’s going to sob. 

“I said answer me!” Robert Parrish’s hand flies towards him, Adam braces himself for the impact, for the hit, this is the worst moment, right before it happens, because Adam knows how much it will hurt. 

He can’t duck, he can’t, and the big hand is coming closer and closer-

and then Adam bolts awake in Ronan’s bed. 

His body is drenched in cold sweat, his heart is thundering like a bird’s, his hands are clenched in the covers, every muscle is tense. His breath is coming quickly, and after a moment, he realizes there are real tears on his face. 

“Adam!” Ronan is beside him, headphones slung around his neck, a concerned look on his face.

“It’s- it’s him-” Adam’s voice is breathless and scared, “he’s- I- he tried to hit me and I couldn’t move- we were at the trailer- I was five-” His breath is still so fast and there are black spots dancing in his vision.

Ronan’s hands fly to his shoulders and press down until Adam is on his back again. Adam lets him.

“You’re at the Barns, Adam,” Ronan whispers, “do you hear me? He’s not here anymore. No one can hurt you here.” 

Adam lets out an embarrassing sob, but Ronan’s arms curl around him nontheless. He tugs the blanket back up. “Breathe, Adam… like this…” Ronan grabs one of Adam’s shaky hands and presses it palm down against his own chest so Adam can feel it rise and fall. “Slow down… yeah… good, Adam.” 

Adam’s fingers curl into the fabric of Ronan’s bed shirt to remind himself that Ronan is real and all this is true. 

Slowly, his breath calms down. 

He spends the rest of the night with his face buried in Ronan’s chest.


	22. Ugh (Sarchengsey+pynch)

“Ugh, look at them. Look at these two. Incredible.” Blue looks over the rim of her sunglasses. They’re heart-shaped and violet. Henry does the same, pushing his Ray Bans down the bridge of his nose, following her gaze. 

They’re at Monmouth, enjoying some late autumn sun in the parking lot. Henry insisted on putting up a heinous palm-island-shaped floatie for him and Blue to lie in “to make it feel more like summer”. Gansey is sleeping in dangerously sagging lounger next to them. 

Adam and Ronan are both bent over the Pig. The old one, not the new dream Pig. Something is wrong with it again, Adam is fixing it, and Ronan is apparently assisting.

“…all Ronan does is fuck around and stare at Adam’s ass.”, Henry comments.

Blue snorts. “True. But also his hands. Look-”

Ronan hands Adam a wrench, and their fingers brush. Adam’s lips tighten into a tiny smile and Ronan’s ear tinge pink. 

“Oh my god.”, Blue sighs, and then laughs, “…they really, really need to make out. If not to save their souls, then to save ours.” 

Henry hums in agreement. “I’d watch that porn.”

Blue slaps him. “Do you think they’ll ever figure it out?”

Henry hums again, this time less certain. “…I hope so.” He pauses, then looks to her, “…do you mind it? I mean, you and Adam-”

“Pshah.” Blue gestures, flapping her hand, “That’s so irrelevant.” 

Henry grins, a little relieved. “Good. I mean, yeah, you have me and Ganseyboy over there now to worship the ground you walk on, so-”

He breaks off when Blue rolls over on top of him, simoultaneously slapping him, laughing, and kissing him. 

He grabs her wrists. She eventually just slumps on top of him, her cheek on his chest, looking over to the soundly sleeping Gansey. His face is starting to redden. 

“…we should put sun screen on him.”, Henry says as if he’s reading her thouhts. 

Blue nods. 

After a moment, she asks: “…do you think he’d mind?” 

Henry considers the question. “Not really mind, maybe? But…” He shrugs a little. “…I think he wouldn’t know werther to get protective over Adam, or Ronan, or both of them and it’d mess with his head.”

Blue hums in agreement.

-

It takes two more weeks of watching Adam and Ronan flirt with each other and dance around each other for Blue to snap. 

It’s two weeks before Adam is supposed to leave for college and they’re getting Gelato. 

They sit inside the parlour, happily eating their ice cream. Gansey and Henry are eagerly discussing some extension for RoboBee, taking up the conversational space at the table. So only Blue hears it when Ronan asks Adam: “Wanna try some of mine?” 

She watches sneakily from the corner of her eye as Adam nods. Ronan uses his spoon to scrape up ice cream, a generous dollop of it, and then holds it out for Adam. Adam, without hesitation, leans in and licks it off the spoon. Ronan’s eyes are fixed on Adam’s mouth, his tongue darting out. 

“Oh my fucking goddess.” It escapes Blue, sounding exasperated. All of her boys freeze and look at her. 

“You two.” She points her spoon at Ronan and Adam, “Can you please, PLEASE just finally start dating? I can’t take all of this sexual tension!” She turns to Henry and Gansey- “Sorry, but this is driving me nuts.” 

There is a brief silence at the table, and then Ronan starts to laugh. A true, honest belly laugh, so hard that he leans back in his seat. Adam, too, starts smirking, and then laughing, and to both Blue’s and Henry’s surprise, Gansey joins in as well. 

Henry and Blue exchange a confused glance. 

“Okay, what’s so funny? Can you guys please enlighten us? It’s rude to-”

Henry’s sentence stops short in the middle of it as Adam leans across the table and pulls Ronan into a kiss. They are both still grinning. 

Gansey chuckled good-naturely. 

Henry and Blue stare.

“Oh.”, says Blue, finally.

“Oh, indeed.”, Henry agrees. Even he is too dumbfounded for a smart comment. 

“You knew?!” Blue’s voice is accusatory, and Gansey quickly holds up his hands in defense. “Don’t chew me out for it, please. I promised not to tell!” 

“Ugh!” Blue rolls her eyes in a gesture that gives Ronan a run for his money. Then she glares at Ronan and Adam. Adam smiles at her, equal parts sheepish and apologetic. Ronan has resumed eating his gelato. 

“You do realize that this makes us one of those circle of friends which consists solely of couples?”, Henry throws in. “I haven’t decided whether I find this cool or not.”

“Noone cares, Cheng.”, Ronan drawls.

“I think it’s cool.”, Gansey comments cheerily. 

Blue silently agrees as she watches Ronan’s eyes catch Adam’s, full of light and adoration.


	23. pwp Gansey/Ronan/Adam: double trouble (obviously nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all you guys' support. Love you lots, and enjoy this very smutty chapter.

“Oh, fuck.”

Adam watches as Ronan sinks into Gansey, his jaw slacking, eyelids drooping from pleasure. When Adam looks down to Gansey, he can see that Gansey’s eyes have rolled back and his lips have parted. Adam reaches out and runs a thumb over Gansey’s bottom lip.

“Doing so well, Gansey.”, he says quietly, and that seems to pull Gansey out of his haze. He looks up, meeting Adam’s eyes, and mewls, and Adam feels like his whole being just focused on that very moment. 

Ronan starts thrusting, rocking Gansey forward. Gansey drops his head, and his noises come steadily now, in the rythm of Ronan’s thrusts.  
Adam rubs Gansey’s shoulders and his arms, and takes in the sight. Ronan looks like the best kind of mess, sweating and snarling, occasionally letting out little grunts as he drives into Gansey relentlessly. 

Adam can tell when Ronan is close; he’s seen it enough times before. The little crease between his brows appears, and his hips stutter and- 

“Don’t come yet!”, Gansey suddenly orders, voice breathless and less composed than usually, and of course Ronan obeys, hips halting immediately. Adam almost laughs at Ronan’s expression, concentration dissolving into nothing but lust. Adam knows that he’s tempted to just come anyways, his body and his needs overpowering, but a king’s command isn’t an easy one to disobey. 

Ronan pulls out, and then Adam suddenly finds himself underneath Gansey, who has climbed on top of him, determination in his eyes.

“Gan-”, Adam chokes on the rest of the word when Gansey, still slick and open, sinks down on his cock which is easily hard enough from watching the other two. 

Somewhere behind Gansey, Adam can hear Ronan let out a rough, hoarse laugh. “Needy today, huh?”

Gansey groans in lieu of an answer, bracing himself on Adam’s chest so he can rock up and down more easily. Adam is left to stare, mouth hanging open now as well, hands trailing up Gansey’s thighs and eventually resting on his hips.

“Fuck yeah, ride him.” The bed dips when Ronan sinks down on it next to Adam, and starts stroking himself. 

Gansey rides Adam hard and fast, dribbling precome all over Adam’s stomach and clenching around him at just the right time, and so Adam soon feels himself come closer to his release as well.

“Go slow...”, he urges, holding on to Gansey’s hips, but Gansey shakes his head, and instead speeds up even more. 

“Gansey, I’m gonna-” And then the delicious stimulation is gone and Adam’s balls clench. “Fuck, Gansey!”, he curses, a bit more forceful than before. 

“Not yet.” Gansey shoots him a breathless and blushy smile as he climbs back over Ronan, and that almost makes Adam forget his aching balls and throbbing cock. 

Ronan is ready, he’s got the lube bottle in hand. Both of them expect Gansey to sit down on Ronan the same way he had on Adam, but instead, he lies down on his back, legs spread. “My legs are tired.”, he declares with a sheepish little laugh, completely contrasting his fucked out looks and current presentation, “...Ronan, come here, please.”

Ronan obeys, positioning himself between Gansey’s legs. The cap of the lube clicks, and all Adam can see from this angle is how Gansey blinks up at Ronan, letting out soft breaths as Ronan slicks him up again.

Then, Ronan’s tattoo ripples as he throws the lube away and leans forward and slides into Gansey with ease. He’s opened enough that Ronan doesn’t meet any resistance at all, and soon, Adam gets a good view of the two of them making the bed shake. Gansey’s hands are wrapped around Ronan’s upper arms, holding on to the hard and tensed muscles there. Adam can hear skin slap against skin and he can smell sweat and he can hear grunts and moans again, and it’s glorious.

This time, it’s Gansey who makes Ronan stop with his hands on Ronan’s shoulders. He pulls Ronan down for a kiss, and Adam watches as Gansey whispers something into Ronan’s ear. He can’t hear what, but Ronan reacts promptly to it, shoulders rolling and groaning out a quiet, serious little “Fuck, that’s hot.”

“What?”, Adam asks, and when Ronan turns around he can see that Ronan is blushing. 

Gansey stays on his back, biting his lip, looking between Ronan and Adam, and there is a little silence.

“What?!”, Adam asks again.

“Dick wants us to fuck him.” There’s a little pause in which Adam probably looks rather dumb, before Ronan adds, “...at the same time.”

“Oh.” Every last drop og blood Adam had left in his brain is now rushing south. 

He looks to Gansey, who’s sat up by now, and looks equal parts eager and sheepish. “...if you want.”

Adam blinks, once. “....hell yeah.” Gansey’s face splits into a huge grin.

The whole set-up takes a lot of fumbling and rearranging. They eventually decide for Adam sitting on the bed, propped against the headboard with his legs spread, Gansey straddling him and Ronan from behind. They apply a generous amount of lube, almost emptying the bottle, and then, things get serious.

Adam’s first. Gansey is hot and tight around him, and for a moment, Adam thinks I don’t want to share but then, he can feel Ronan’s hands on the base of his cock, catching the lube there, and fuck. Okay.

Gansey rocks up and down again, twice, three times, but he’s already stretched out enough so he doesn’t need much preparation before Ronan can slide a finger in beside Adam’s cock.

All three of them gasp at the unusual sensation, and Adam moans when Ronan’s fingertip strokes the tip of his cock.

Gansey, his eyes shut, a concentrated smile on his face, comments: “...feels weird...” His eyebrows furrow, and then relax again, “...but good. ...you can.... more please.”

Ronan adds a second finger, and Gansey’s eyebrows furrow again. Everything is slow, almost tantric. Ronan goes slow and careful, not wanting to hurt Gansey. The third finger makes the crease between Gansey’s eyebrows reappear. Adam has to focus on reciting latin verbs in his head to keep himself from coming already. 

“Okay, Ronan.” Gansey sounds determined. “I’m ready.”

“You sure?” 

“Yes.” 

The fingers disappear, making Adam and Gansey both choke on their moans. 

There is more shuffling around, and then Ronan is right behind Gansey, straddling Adam’s legs. 

It’s oddly sweet when Ronan presses soft kisses to Gansey’s shoulder while he slowly pushes into him. 

“Fuck that’s tight.”, Adam groans. Ronan sliding into Gansey next to him makes the already confined space even smaller before Gansey’s body accomodates and stretches a little more. 

Gansey’s head falls forward, and Adam is there to catch him, running a thumb over his cheekbone, palm catching Gansey’s muffled, uncontrolled whines, while his other hand goes to Gansey’s cock, stroking slowly to distract him from the almost unbearable stretch. 

Ronan is unusually quiet, gently sucking at Gansey’s shoulder, holding still.

“Okay, you can move now...please.” Gansey is forcing his voice to sound this calm, but his expression, the blush on his cheeks and his leaking erection betray him. 

Ronan obeys, once again. 

The first slow thrust makes all of them groan, in both pleasure and surprise at the situation. 

A little “Oh” escapes Gansey at the second thrust, and then, in his matter-of-fact-Gansey voice, breathless but nontheless very Gansey, he adds: “I think you can make me come like this.”

Both Ronan and Adam groan in lieu of a reply. 

Adam thinks he’s never going to last long enough when Ronan’s cock rubs against him again and again. It feels like this orgasm is going to suck his soul right out of his body through his dick. 

Ronan thrusts harder now, and Adam has to admire his self-control. They’re all sweaty, their bodies make wet, sinful noises when slapping together and the lube sounds slimey between them. 

It doesn’t take long, thank God, until Gansey says, “Oh, I think I’m going to-” in a voice that’s entirely too calm for this. 

“Fuck, yes.”, Ronan groans, and Adam uses his hand to squeeze Gansey’s cock and then they both watch as Gansey’s lashes flutter rapidly, his jaw goes slack and he shoots so hard that his come hits Adam’s chin. 

The moment his body starts pumping, his muscles tighten, squeezing Ronan and Adam so hard that neither of them can move, and that’s all it takes: Adam, with one low, guttoral growl,spills into Gansey. Ronan follows him over the edge, hips stuttering, forehead sinking against Gansey’s shoulder, a loud, drawn out “Aaaah” leaving his mouth with a long breath. 

Afterwards, they stay like this for a moment, all three of them panting, eyes closed. 

Then Gansey stirrs, slowly, opening his eyes, shooting Adam a bashful, guilty look. “Sorry.”, he says as he reaches out to wipe his come from Adam’s chin. 

Ronan behind Gansey snorts. “You have our come dribbling our of your ass, and you apologize to Parrish for coming into his face?” 

Adam laughs and lets Gansey wipe it away. 

“Come on.” Ronan pulls out, making Gansey and Adam suck in sharp breaths, “...let’s take a shower.” 

This time, it’s Ronan who’s obeyed.


	24. Dream Pack Winter Mood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from softproko on tumblr: snowman/snowball fight and hot choc with mini marshmallows

“What the fuck are you doing?”, K asks, shoulders pulled up, as he lights a cigarette, sauntering over one of Aglionby’s lawns which are currently covered in snow. Like always, he’s wearing his white sunglasses, but today, combined with a matching white, enormous winter jacket. It has fur on the hood. 

“We’re building a snowman!”, Swan cheers, and slams a fist full of snow against the snowman’s side, filling out a hole. 

“Come help, Joey?”, Proko asks sweetly, reaching out for Kavinsky. He’s wearing a hat K has dreamt him when it got cold some weeks ago. It’s the same color as his teal hair and has “TOY” written on it. 

“Fuck, no.”, K scoffs, and Proko pouts, but doesn’t say anything else. Kavinsky watches the two of them finish their abomination, ending with a stylized hand flipping off the school. 

“What the fucking hell is that?” Jiang and Skov join Kavinsky, coming from Borden House, wading through the snow (neither of them could afford to skip any more classes, unfortunately).

“A snowman!”, Swan repeats with the same enthusiasm as before, throwing a handful of snow into the air so it rains down on him like glitter. 

“I didn’t realize you two were small children!”, Skov replies when Swan skips toward him. 

Swan skips past him towards the cars, yelling “Fuck you! This was super fun! Right, Proko?” 

Proko, who has come up to K by now, smiles and nods, shooting Kavinsky a tentative look. Kavinsky raises an eyebrow at him. “..I think it looks a little like you.”, Proko admits. Kavinsky raises his other eyebrow.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” He finishes his cigarette, and then walks over to the snowman, slamming the butt of his cigarette into its face, filter first, so it looks like its smoking while also flipping off the school. 

The others laugh and cheer, and Proko gives his a big grin. 

-

Swan slams the bag on the table with entirely too much force, making everybody wince. “Fucking mini marshmallows!”, he declares, and then, “I’m making hot chocolate.” 

“Oh! Yes!” Proko immediately scrambles up from Kavinsky’s lap. He’s been lying across his legs on the couch. K is smoking a blunt and watching Jiang and Skov play Call of Duty on the enormous tv. 

“Where is all this christmas spirit coming from?”, Jiang asks, his voice bored and flat like almost always. 

“Fuck you, I just want to spread some love, ‘tis the season after all.”, Swan scoffs. 

“If you want to spread some love, come over here and get on your knees for me.”, Skov tells him, eyes trained on the screen, smirking. 

Swan sticks out his tongue at him. “Maybe later. Come on, Proko!” He holds out his hand for Proko. 

The teal-haired boy, still standing by Kavinsky’s side, cocks his head and looks down to his dreamer. 

Kavinsky regards him, slowing out a lung full of smoke. Then he reaches out, grabs Proko’s hair and pulls him down. “I want extra marshmellows.” 

Proko smiles, eyes glossing over from K’s affection, and lets Kavinsky bite his bottom lip. “Yes, Joey.” 

K slaps his ass when he turns around to go.


	25. christmas!!!!! pynch!!!!! heck yes!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hurls cookies* I AM *throws christmas tree* SO FUCKING *barfs up ornaments* EXCITED FOR CHRISTMAS!!!!
> 
> thank you for the prompt, treebananas.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of this.” Ronan said, the moment Adam was ready to open his mouth and object. 

“We’re celebrating christmas together, Parrish. I sure as hell won’t leave you alone in your apartment on fucking christmas, of all holidays. You’re coming with me.” 

And thus, it was decided. 

-

“I haven’t been in church for... years.” Adam shifted. He had, like Ronan, donned his suit, because apparently, that was required for christmas. 

“You literally were in a church with me some weeks ago.”, Ronan replied as he pulled into the parking lot. It was packed already, and Ronan cursed when his usual spot was taken. 

“I mean, like, at Mass.”, Adam replied. “...and never at a catholic one.”

Ronan shrugged as he stole someone else’s parking spot, finally stopping the BMW. “It’s your first time, then. I’ll be gentle.” He threw Adam a snarling smile. 

Adam rolled his eyes at him, and together, they got out of the car. It didn’t take long to spot both Matthew’s blond shock of hair and Declan’s shining silver iPhone. Matthew, spotting them through the crowd as well, started waving, a big smile spreading on his face. Next to Declan, a pretty blond girl in a modest red dress and black coat looked over to them.

“Woah, Declan’s bringing his girlfriend?!”, Adam asked quietly as they made their way through the crowd, “I didn’t know it was that serious with them. What’s her name again?”

Ronan simply shrugged again. “No fucking idea. Probably Tiffany or Kayla or Ashley or something.” 

Adam wondered how long it would take for the older two Lynches to pick a fight. 

“Ronan!” Matthew threw himself at Ronan, and Ronan caught him with just as much force, immediately wrestling him into a loving headlock, the Lynch equivalent of a hug. “Hey, favourite brother.” 

Declan looked up from his phone at that, and just rolled his eyes slightly before sticking out his hand to Adam. “Hello, Adam.” 

Adam shook his hand, “Hey, Declan.” 

“...this is Sarah. Sarah, this is Adam Parrish, Ronan’s... friend.” 

“Boyfriend.”, Adam corrected casually, shaking Sarah’s hand. She smiled politely at him. That poor girl had no idea what she was getting herself into. “Nice to meet you, Sarah.”

“Yes, nice to meet you, Allison.” Ronan was next to Adam in an instant, “Boyfriend. I’m gay. Very gay.” He gave Declan a fake, over the top, beaming smile. “Just, SO gay. I’m sure my darling brother has told you about that.” 

Declan, whose eyebrows had furrowed with every one of Ronan’s words, now gently put his hand on Sarah’s back. “I think we should go inside.” 

-

Mass itself was crowded and much nicer than Adam would have imagined. For once, Declan and Ronan didn’t jab at each other every few minutes, and when the songs started, Adam got to listen to all three Lynch brothers’ admittedly beautiful voices. 

The priest talked about loving thy neighbour and such, and Adam zoned out a little, looking over the crowd, watching bored children pick at each other and their parents, old people listen enthusiastically to the priest, and teenagers stealing gazes at each other. 

The priest finished and the organ hummed a soft tune. The light was dimmed down, and then, Silent Night started playing. 

Very gently, the back of Ronan’s hand touched Adam’s. 

\- 

They went to dinner at a fancy restaurant which Declan had made reservations for months in advance, apparently. 

It was a bit of a challenge to find a seating arrangement in which Ronan and Declan neither sat next to each other nor opposite of each other, but eventually, they worked it out. 

Matthew seamed to be positively humming with christmas spirit and joy, and it was clear that neither of his brothers wanted to spoil that for him. 

Adam was still looking at the menu, trying to pick out the cheapest dish, when the waitress came. Before anyone could say anything, Declan, with his charming, most Niall-Lynch-voice, told her that he had booked the christmas menu, and then ordered a bottle of wine and several bottles of water to go with it. 

Then Ronan ordered the most expensive beer they had and Matthew ordered Dr. Pepper. 

When the waitress had taken their order, they were left alone again. 

Matthew, who still looked a little like a kid who craved colorbooks in restaurants, smiled at Adam. “It’s really cool that you’re coming this year, Adam!”, he told him, and it was so sweet and genuine that Adam was taken aback for a moment. 

“Thanks for having me.”, he replied then, politely. Ronan squeezed his thigh under the table. 

Declan shot Adam a polite smile (Ronan’s grip on his thigh tightened). “Someone has to keep Ronan in check after all.” 

“Declan.” Sarah gently put her hand on Declan’s shoulder and gave him a look which shut him right up. Both Adam and Ronan bit back a grin, expecting Declan to politely tell her to keep out of his family affairs, but he didn’t. Ronan raised one eyebrow at Adam. “Let’s keep up the christmas spirit.”, she said sweetly, and then, with a loving expression, ran a hand over his cheekbone, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. Adam thought to himself that she sounded almost exactly like Aurora, sweet, soft and yet, gently authorative. 

Ronan must have heard that as well, because he made a gagging gesture toward Matthew, who giggled, slapping his hands over his mouth. 

Luckily, the waitress came back with their beverages. 

\- 

Hours later, Ronan and Adam lay on the couch. Opal was curled into a ball under the christmas tree, snoring softly, Adam’s gift, an enormous, forest green scarf, wrapped around her whole body, and Ronan’s gift, a kitten, curled up on top of her. 

Ronan had his nose buried against Adam’s chest, and Adam’s fingers gently trailed over Ronan’s back, following the lines of the tattoo. In the back, the wood oven crackled pleasantly. It was warm and comfortable, and Adam thought to himself, so this is what christmas is supposed to feel like. He pressed his lips against the skin of Ronan’s shaved head. 

“Merry Christmas, Ro. I’m glad you forced me to spend it with you. And your family.”

Ronan lifted his head from Adam’s chest, looking at him with electric blue eyes. “...don’t go all sappy on me now.” 

Adam smiled and lightly pinched Ronan’s shoulder. “ ‘m just saying.”

Ronan paused, narrowing his eyes, then put his head back down. 

“...merry christmas to you, too, Parrish.”, he mumbled after a moment of quiet.


	26. Adam Parrish, bi-saster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I get brownie points for the title?   
> Hey, come talk to me on tumblr! marmelade-sky.tumblr.com
> 
> also, to those of you who leave kudos and comments: thank you ♥ it always makes my day to see those notifications.

One of these days, Adam was going to run into a wall, fall over his own feet or just choke on his own saliva. 

And whose fault was that?

Well, mostly his own, but Adam liked blaming it on Ronan Lynch.   
Ronan, the blade, Ronan, the firework, Ronan, the dreamer, Ronan, the disaster, Ronan, with his arms and his chest and his face, his fucking face. 

Adam was good at hiding it, because Adam Parrish had always been good at hiding things from other people, and himself, too. There were, however, some very close calls. 

Like that one time at the Barns. Upon their arrival, Ronan had greeted him, Blue and Gansey in nothing but an overall and boots. 

“I’m replacing some of the Barn doors.”, he had declared, and then pointed to Adam. “Parrish- come help me. Gansey, stay as far away as possible, you’re useless with tools. Jane- ...you’re to small to reach.” 

And so Adam had ended up stuck in one of the Barns with Ronan, impossibly close, impossibly sweaty, impossibly hot. Tearing his eyes away from Ronan’s biceps as they worked on the hinges of the door in question had been so impossibly hard. 

“Parrish, hand me that screwdriver.”

Adam registered that Ronan had spoken a moment to late, enough time for ever-impatient Ronan to snap, “Parrish!” at him.

“Yeah, sorry.” Adam reached for the tool in question and handed it to Ronan, who glared at him suspiciously. 

“What’s got you so distracted?”

“Nothing.” Adam felt his cheeks starting to burn. He clenched his teeth and kept his eyes trained on the doorframe. 

“Really?” Adam didn’t have to look at Ronan to know he was smirking. “...cause I could swear you were staring at my arm.”

“You got a smudge there.”, Adam replied cooly, his voice level. Fuck. 

“Do I?” Ronan tried turning his arm to look. “Can’t see anything.”

“Here.”, Adam said, and then he reached out and wiped the imaginary smudge from Ronan’s biceps. Why. Adam needed a break. 

What this did, at least, was shut Ronan up. When Adam glanced up at him again, Ronan’s lips were pressed together, and the tips of his ears were pink. 

 

Adam didn’t feel so bad about staring anymore after that.


	27. prokopinsky: collar and body worship (obviously nsfw)

“Put it on me.” Proko’s eyes sparkle as he sinks to his knees in front of K with his new toy in his hands. “Please.” His voice has a needy edge that makes K’s cock twitch in his pants already. 

He takes the light pink collar from Proko’s hands, opens the clasp and wraps it around the blonde boy’s neck. Proko bares his throat for him readily, eyes glassy now, cheeks pinked, lips parted. 

Kavinsky closes the collar, and it’s just a little bit too tight, pressing into Proko’s throat the way they both like it. It says “PET” in rosegolden letters in the front, and a dog tag in the form of a heart dangles from it. 

K trails his hand up, letting it settle on Prokopenko’s cheek, and then pushes his thumb between those rosy lips. 

“Such a pretty pet for me.”, he rasps as the pad of his thumb presses against the lower row of Proko’s teeth. 

Proko whines, blue eyes holding K’s gaze.   
“Stand up for me.”, K orders, and pulls away his hand. Proko shoots to his feet. 

He’s naked already, how convenient. K leans back in his seat, spreading his arms over the backrest of the couch. 

“You look hot as fuck in that collar, P.” 

An enormous, deeply red blush blooms on Proko’s cheek, and spreads to his chest when Kavinsky asks: “Are you my pretty pet?”

The nod Proko gives is frantic and fast and needy, and the accompanying “Uh-huh!” is music in K’s ears. He smirks. 

“So pretty...” He lets his eyes trail over Proko’s body, from his pretty, bruised face to his pretty, bruised neck to his pink, stiff nipples. Always makes Proko moan when K plays with them. He leans forward, reaches for Proko’s wrists and wraps his hands around them, clamping them to Proko’s sides, before dragging his tongue over one of the the hard, pink buds. Proko’s reaction doesn’t disappoint. His legs start to shake, and he whines, high-pitched and desperate for more, squirming. 

K laughs against his skin before leaning back again to continue taking in the sight of Proko in the collar. His stomach is flat but not toned with a certain softness to it. K puts his hands to it, letting them rest on Proko’s hips. Proko is still squirming, which is no wonder since he’s rock hard. The tip of his dick is the same color as his cheeks right now.   
K leans forward and presses a kiss to it, which makes Proko whine and squirm even harder. He doesn’t step away, though. “Joey-”, he mewls, “-please...” 

“What is it, pretty boy?”, K asks teasingly. Proko looks down at him and K can see the drool running down his chin, the need in those blue eyes. 

Proko stays silent. 

“Turn around, pet.” He does. Back arched, ass sticking out towards Kavinsky. K slaps it, once, watches the soft flesh jiggle and listens to Proko’s breath hitching, and then he bites it, leaving teeth-marks indented. Proko moans, louder this time. 

K cups his ass with both hands and makes it jiggle again. It’s the perfect size, the perfect shape and the perfect color. Proko has tan lines. K trails them with his fingers. “Bend over.” 

Proko does, baring his hole to K. K lets out a growl which is immediately answered with a little whine from Proko when K pulls apart his buttocks and spits on his hole. 

He’s going to make Proko his tonight, over and over again, he’s going to hold on to that collar until Proko’s pretty eyes go empty, and he’s going to fill him up until he drips. 

“I love you, Joey...”, Proko whispers, arching his back. 

“Spread your legs further, pet.”, K replies.


	28. Dream Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to my wonderful friend Amber. <3

There’s a boy in Joseph’s dreams.

A boy with blond hair and freckles, who sits and listens. 

“Who the fuck are you?”, Joseph asks him when he sees him for the first time.   
The boy just looks up at him with pretty blue eyes and says nothing. 

Joseph hits him.

Crimson blood trails down the boy’s pink lip, and a strawberry colored tongue darts out to catch the drop. 

-

The next time Joseph sees the boy in his dream, he asks him again. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

“A dream.”, the boy replies, and his voice matches his words, dream-like and soft, like cotton candy.

This time, when Joseph hits him, the boy leans into his fist. 

-

“Who the fuck are you?”

The boy’s on his knees, hands on his thighs. “Whatever you’ll make me be.”

Joseph puts his fist to the boy’s cheek again, but this time, the boy’s lips part and his eyes fall shut.   
Joseph doesn’t hit him.  
Instead, he pushes his thumb between those soft lips, making them part. The boy sucks on it eagerly, and when those baby blue eyes open again as spit drools down his chin, Kavinsky can’t look away. 

\- 

“Where did you come from?”

“Where everything else you make comes from.”

“I could kill you.”

“I know.”

The boy bares his neck when Joseph’s hand wraps around it. 

\- 

Sometimes, when Kavinsky is drunk, he’ll talk, and ramble, about school and his coked out bitch of a mother, and more and more frequently, about a boy with black curls and a smile like a knife. 

“Are you in love with him?”, the dream boy asks.

“Fuck, no.”, Kavinsky replies, spitting out the words. 

“That’s good.”, the boy says, and then sighs softly when Joseph fists his hands into his hair. 

\- 

“D’you wanna be out of this dream bullshit?”

“I don’t know, Joey.”

“How can you not know?” 

“It’s not my decision to make.”

“Whose decision is it, then?”

But they both know the answer to that question.

-

Lynch hasn’t raced with him in weeks just because someone knocked his fuckup father’s brain out with a crow bar or something. And Kavinsky doesn’t miss him, it, of course he doesn’t, but fuck, it’s just so boring without. 

And so, he makes the decision. 

For once, it doesn’t feel like stealing when Dream Boy’s hand wraps around his and holds on as Kavinsky pulls, waking, taking him out of the dream and making him reality. 

“Who am I?”, the boy asks when Joseph opens his eyes. 

“Mine.”, Kavinsky replies, voice hoarse from sleep.

The boy nods and lets his head sink onto Joseph’s chest.


	29. Gasoline (famous!AU- pynch)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyy it's been.........a hot minute.
> 
> This was originally written for pynch week, but I didn't finish on time, so. Anyways, enjoy the copious amount of awkward flirting.

Adam smelled gasoline and rubber burning on asphalt. The smell was stuck in his hair, in his clothes, in his blood. 

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

This was his life and his passion: cars.   
At 21, Adam was the youngest mechanic Boyd employed for such an important job, and Adam was proud of that. This was what he was good at, and every day, he was striving to get better.

Adam’s parents didn’t have the money for college, and even though Adam had worked as hard as he could, he didn’t get a scholarship. And yeah, at first, he was disappointed in himself, angry, jealous of his classmates who did get into their dream schools. 

But if Adam knew one thing, it was that dwelling on the things he couldn’t have was no use. He needed to move on; procrastionation was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Instead of college, he found another way to get out of his poisonous home, away from his abusive father: becoming a mechanic. Boyd had offered to train him professionally several times, and the day Adam knew he wouldn’t be able to go to college, he found his boss and told him he would accept the offer. 

Boys had been more proud and excited than Adam had ever seen him before, and it had eased the pain of failure inside him.

A year later, Boyd had surprisingly scored a big gig: a contract with a large race car club. And now, Adam was working full time at Richmond International Raceway, gaining the experience of his life time.   
And on days when Adam didn’t long for higher education, he loved his job. A lot. The smooth rumble of an engine, the feeling of a hood shook by healthy vibrations and the way his muscles pulled and pushed when he was hoisting tires around held some deep satisfaction for Adam.

If only it wasn’t for the drivers.  
They all were neurotic about their cars at best, and downright arrogant assholes at worst, engaging in petty gossip about each other and using their minute of fame to pick up as many girls as they could.

So, naturally, when Adam was told he’d be working on Ronan Lynch’s car, he expected the worst.  
Adam had only ever seen Lynch and his midnight black BMW from afar. Of course he knew about the statistics- Lynch, one of the youngest drivers in the sport, with a winning streak to break records, reckless and sharp-edged, who disliked the press.   
Adam thought he was probably just a huge asshole. 

-

Lynch’s car was a beauty. 

Sleek, black, sexy in a way only cars could be. 

Boyd had taken Adam aside last night. “I know you won’t, but just let me say this, boy: don’t fuck this up, yeah? I know you can do it, you’re my best mechanic, just... this is an important gig, okay? Give me your all.”

Adam had just nodded a “Yes, Sir.” and then rolled his eyes quietly to himself after turning away from the old man. Like he didn’t always give his best. 

Adam was alone in the garage- it was five in the morning, after all. Adam liked getting up early for work, liked being the very first one in the garage, having peace and quiet to work. He didn’t sleep a lot, anyways.

He popped the hood open, taking a minute to admire the BMW’s shiny, polished guts. Adam pressed his fingers against them here and there, running a gentle thumb over cool metal. “Gorgeous.”, he whispered to himself.

“You trying to fuck my car or fix it?”

The sharp voice behind Adam made him swivel around. And there he was: Ronan Lynch, in all his glory. He was taller than Adam had expected, dressed in all black with the hood of his sweat jacket up, covering his shaved head. His eyes were a startling icy blue- Adam usually wasn’t one to notice people’s eyes, but Lynch’s were so striking that he couldn’t help it. 

“Admiring them a little before getting to work usually makes them more cooperative.”, Adam replied before he could get his sarcasm under control. “Cars are like girls in that way.” It was the sort of talk Adam disliked, but never failed to make drivers laugh and clap his shoulder. 

Lynch just gave him an unimpressed, sneering grin. “Fuck would I know.” He approached, and took a look over Adam’s shoulder, then at Adam. Lynch had a very sharp jawline, Adam noticed. 

“So, you’re the kid everyone talks about? That damn good mechanic?”

“I didn’t know people talked about me.”, Adam replied and turned away from Lynch and back towards the car. 

Another sneer.

“Why are you up at five in the fucking morning? You like work that much?” Finally, Lynch gave Adam some more space, leaning back against one of the waist-high tool containers. Adam was glad about that; he hated having people looking over his shoulder when he worked.

“I like the quiet.”, Adam said, seeing no need to lie. “...I don’t need a lot of sleep.” Well, that was a lie. Adam needed sleep- sleep just didn’t come to him very easily.

“Hm.” The nod Lynch gave him was... understanding, in a weird, brass way. 

“You gonna let me do my work now?”, Adam asked. In his mind, he could see Boyd cringe. Adam sure as hell wasn’t going to treat Lynch any different from any other moron lounging around in his work space just because he was famous.

“Sure, man.” Lynch’s grin had something... animalistic. “Just treat him right.”

“Him?” Adam couldn’t help the lazy curiosity in his voice.

“Yeah.” There was that brass edge again, and Adam could see the wall shoot up behind Lynch’s eyes. Oh.

“No worries.” There was the barest hint of laughted in Adam’s voice; who would have guessed. Ronan Lynch, man of many mysteries. “I’ll make sure he’ll be purring when you get him back.” 

Adam couldn’t deny the shivers running down his spine when Lynch’s wall crumbled. 

“Yeah, alright.”, Lynch spat out. When he left the garage, he did so by slamming the door shut loud enough to send the crash reverbrating through the huge room. 

Adam worked with a smirk on his lips all morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me what you think in the comments? :)


	30. boobs (sarchengsey- nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yea... well. Idk what to say :D this happened. Enjoy ;)

It’s almost midnight.   
Blue is sprawled out on Gansey’s bed, enjoying the enormous size of it that allows her to starfish, even though Henry is doing the same right next to her. 

“Why is he taking this long?”, Blue asks, meaning Gansey who’s been in the bathroom-kitchen for about twenty minutes now, which is more than twice as long as he usually takes.

“I introduced him to this new korean skin care routine.”, Henry explains. He’s on his phone, scrolling through Instagram. Like Blue, he’s in his pyjama- yes, they sleep in pyjamas. Mostly because Monmouth gets kind of chilly at night, and also because being naked or partially naked around each other is still something they have to get a little used to. They haven’t gone much further than kissing and a little bit of over-the-clothes-fumbling.

“Uh, I want a korean skin routine, too, please?”, Blue requests. Henry shoots her a grin.   
“Your skin is perfect, anyways.”  
“Aw, thanks.” Blue cranes her neck and kisses Henry’s arm. 

The bathroom-kitchen door opens, and out steps Gansey. His face looks freshly washed, there’s little drops of water still clinging to his chest. His bare chest. 

“Oohhh dayum.” Henry wasted no time to cat call Gansey, who in turn turns a little pink. 

“Stop it, all of my night shirts need washing.” 

“I don’t think we’re complaining, are we, Blue?” Henry sits up on the bed. Blue rolls to the side to get a proper look. 

Gansey is gorgeous- skin just slightly tanned and smooth, his hair more rumpled than usual, contacts out and glasses on. He carries himself a little self-consciously as he crawls into bed with them. 

Blue reaches out and runs her fingertips down his chest, making more pink bloom right under his throat. 

Henry laughs softly. “Your nipples just got hard.” He reaches out and pinches one of them until Gansey shoves his hand away; by now, his blush is less peachy and more tomato-y. “Stop it!”, he says, covering his chest with his hands, and for a second, Blue is absolutely endeared by Gansey’s soft, shy smile. 

“Does that not feel good for guys?”, she asks. 

Her boys exchange a brief glance; Henry amused, Gansey still sheepish. 

“Depends on the guy, I guess. I like it fine.”, Henry shrugs. Gansey says nothing. Blue nudges his leg with her foot. “How about you?”

“It does feel a little… arousing.”, he says, and then hides his face in one of the pillows, making Blue and Henry laugh. 

“Oh my god, do you have a kink for nipple play?”, Henry asks, mockingly scandalized. Blue can see the spark in his eyes, though. Gansey groans into the pillow, but eventually peeks out from behind his hands. 

“How… how does it feel for, um, girls? I mean, for you?”, he asks Blue, and wow, his voice is so low and raspy right now, and the tentative, gentle undertone gives Blue the best kind of goosebumps. 

Henry’s eyes, too, lie on her now, and Blue can feel her body slowly catching fire. 

“Good. Really good.”, she says. Her voice is soft and cracks just a little bit. Her hands automatically go to her breasts, cupping them- they’re on the larger side, contrary to her hands, which means they don’t fit into her palm. She can feel both boys’ eyes follow her movements and stick to her boobs. 

It’s Henry who breaks into movement first, sitting up all the way and tugging his shirt, off. “It’s equality.”, he says, and Blue groans at the Ariana Grande reference. He just smirks at her. Gansey is quiet, eyes turned away from Blue now. Blue gets the feeling that he’d rather like to stare, but tries to stay modest. 

There’s a beat of silence between them until she rolls her eyes. “If you wanna see my boobs, just say so.”

She’s never seen her boys sputter like that before-   
“You don’t- that’s not what I meant-”, Henry stutters,   
“We don’t have to do that yet-”, Gansey stutters, and now they’re both really red in the face.

Blue just rolls her eyes again, sits up, and then, before she can lose her courage, pulls her pyjama top over her head. The Monmouth air is a little cold on her breasts, and she can feel her nipples harden- however, she’s not sure if it’s the chilly air or this situation. She’s certainly not feeling cold between her legs right now.

For a long moment, both of them just stare in awe, like they’re looking at something holy. And… that feels kind of nice, to see that admiration in their eyes. 

Then Gansey scrambles up on the bed and moves like he wants to kiss her, but can’t really, because his gaze seems stuck. “Jesus, Jane… you’re… gorgeous.”, he whispers, and there’s so much feeling in his voice that it blind sides Blue for a second. 

“You are.”, Henry agrees, and positions himself next to Gansey. Blue is now faced with a wall of boy- and so she decides to just lie down, sinking back into the pillows. It occurs to her that she really wants to spread her legs right now, and so she does. Gansey has the fortunate position to be closer to her, so he ends up in between her thighs. 

“Come here.”, she says, and reaches for both of them, her left hand grabbing Gansey’s forearm, and her right hand grabbing Henry’s thigh, and Gansey props himself up on all fours on top of her, and Henry lies down next to her, and then there’s mouths and hands skin on skin, until Blue feels like she’s going to burn up from the inside. 

 

After that night, they decide that pyjamas are overrated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me what you think? <3


	31. tired to the bones (pynch)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the support, guys :)

There’s a knock on the door, and it’s late at night, and Adam really doesn’t want to get up right now. 

He really doesn’t want to.

In fact, he doesn’t ever want to get up again. He’s just going to die here, on this too-thin IKEA mattress in this too-small, too-ratty appartment.

But the knocking doesn’t stop, and then a pissed-off voice outside the door barks “Open the fuck up, Parrish, or I’ll kick this fucking door in.”

So Adam peels himself up from his makeshift bed. There’s text books everywhere, and stepping over them hurts. He shouldn’t have taken those two extra shifts at Boyd’s. 

When he opens the door, there’s Ronan, in all his glory, looking like an extremely annoyed wild animal who’s holding two pizza cartons. 

Without a greeting, he enters Adam’s apartment. Ronan always has to duck his head a little when he comes in here. Too tall. 

“Fucking idiot, Parrish.” Ronan kicks one of the text books aside and flops down on the edge of Adam’s mattress. Adam is too tired to tell him to fuck off and stop kicking his textbooks. Instead, he pulls one of those empty crates opposite of Ronan and sits down.

Ronan opens the pizza boxes, and the smell makes Adam’s stomach clench hard. He thinks about the last time he’s eaten and wonders if that chewing gum at work counts as a meal.

“Here. Meat lover.” Ronan gives him a smirk and Adam just rolls his eyes, not able to keep the grin off his face. 

“So, that’s yours, then?”, he asks, and Ronan just flips him off.

They eat in silence.

After, Ronan stacks the empty boxes, pushing them to the side. The way he grabs Adam’s wrist catches Adam a little off guard, and he pulls back.

“Relax, Parrish.”, Ronan says, and shifts on the bed. “Just- …come here.”

And Adam gives in, lets himself be pulled next to Ronan on the bed, sprawling on his front. His bed smells like Ronan now, like gasoline and denim and expensive perfume.

In his head, he calculates the hours of sleep he will get tonight if he falls asleep right now. Five. That’s decent. If he can fall asleep now. 

His thoughts fall short however when he feels a strong hand below his shoulder blade, rubbing there, running over a knot in the muscles. Adam gives an involuntary groan.

“Shut up.”, Ronan says, but it’s soft and careful. “You’re gonna fuck up your spine.” 

“It’s already fucked up.”, Adam whispers into his pillow. 

“I said shut up.”

Ronan’s hands wander up and down Adam’s back, kneading, pulling, rubbing, and Adam wonders if he could get hard right now if he wasn’t so tired. 

Like this, he just gets more and more tired. 

When Ronan stops, Adam’s eyes have drooped shut, and he can feel himself drifting off. 

A whispered, affectionate “Fucking idiot.” is the last thing he hears before sleep overcomes him.


End file.
